Campaign of the Month:
February 2017

God-Touched

For real, guys, we mean it.

In the days that followed…

The Found coped.

With extensive help from her family, Resolve found a new way to carry on, as her optimism was not so quick to recover as it had been in the past.

Razorback and Black Sun were mourned; further losses were grieved; and then a great deal more was celebrated. The Swan Maiden threw back-to-back parties, inviting any one and every one of the gods to attend.

Star-Bringer suggested a monument for Black Sun. He’d done so much — been so much. This was met by firm agreement on all sides. Together they created a monument honoring his moments of deepest peace: sitting at home with little Sofia curled up at his side.

After further discussion with the Mother of the Lost, Ruben decided to follow through with marrying Eloisa. The ceremony went smoothly, and the two of them settled in for the hard work of living a married life.

Stormchaser was finally able to leave his fully-grown storm to catch up and attend dinner with the Found, sharing with them the songs he’d made up using the various pieces of news they’d brought him throughout the years atop his lonely cloud.

Star-Bringer sought to simulate Rose Thorn Child’s sacrifice so that he and Resolve could lead a happier life. She questioned Rose Thorn Child about what it was exactly that powered the Teotl; to which Rose Thorn Child said he didn’t know — all he knew is it had to do with blood and the sacrifice thereof. She asked Ken if he’d be willing to try and recreate the hamster wheel he’d made to keep the chaos from leaking out of the rift. Once it was made clear to Star-Bringer that her project would defeat the purpose of Rose Thorn Child’s sacrifice and take the power away utterly from the Teotl, she dropped it.

On his next journey, Ken visited Phobos, Deimos, and Enyo in Tartarus, chatting with them and beginning to develop a way to free them from their imprisonment…

Sun-Bearer continued doing his job with alacrity, working side-by-side with Set, relieved by the fact that his job was much simpler than being the king of the gods. The two of them shared a mutual respect. In an attempt to reconcile herself with Set, Star-Bringer packed them lunches.

Wes finally had a complete family. His first words were “Mama! Fing!” due to Ruben’s frequent reminders around him that Star-Bringer was “doing the thing” again. He played a great deal with the souls of children in the Castle Under the Sea and spent a lot of time listening to their stories and how they died; and later sharing them with his family when he had the words for it. He turned out to be an apt helper and very insistent that things be done in the right order. He inherited daddy’s shine; and he spent much of his time with his mother making the stars twinkle. She started occasionally taking him to her place in the sky, where he listened intently to what the stars had to say.

Due to the diligence and care of the Bogovi Mafia, Wes’s first foreign cuss was in Russian.

Star-Bringer and Sun-Bearer worked together to renegotiate their marriage contract so that, should anything happen to them, custody of their children would fall to the Mother of the Lost. They also took the clause out about Wes’s education by Isis.

A year after Ragnarök ended, Star-Bringer and Sun-Bearer conceived again. Anabelle Lisa Sultan was born nine months later, and Sun-Bearer was there to welcome her into the world.

Jeff and Abel continued to be settled and remained in the babysitter rotation, offsetting Star-Bringer’s protectiveness with an equal amount of chill.

Benji lived his life in blissful obscurity, aging once more, and became more and more open to the idea of the Found coming over to visit.

Resolve and Rose Thorn Child did not attempt to have another child. Not only was the hurt still too fresh, their duties kept them apart for half the year.

The Nice Goddess Club started to meet regularly again.

Ra officially appointed Monthu as an heir, instilling in Hathor no small amount of stress.

Morena and Jarilo bore a child whom they named Jarvora, a fearsome little girl with black eyes and a hunger for carrion. They are very proud parents indeed; and Mokosh and Perun delighted grandparents.

Star-Bringer and Mo’okameakapuakuainahoku worked together in an attempt to understand the stars better. Additionally, Star-Bringer adopted Brigit’s heretofore dormant forge, beginning to explore its mysterious workings.

Ginger settled into her new lifestyle following all the exciting chaos that had occurred. After a few years, it proved too stable for her tastes…

In which the dust settles

Ra wakened, saw that all creation had become foreign to him, and stopped the evening. He called each of the Netjer to order, including Sebamiewet, Abirakhet (who was brought back to life by Isis at Ra’s bidding), Iahkemet, Djedferen, Mesnehnef, and even Ahu. They gathered in Meten-Khai-Ra, tense, waiting. Ra called them in one-by-one, asking each of them to relay their stories about what had happened.

Abirakhet was among the first to be questioned. When he emerged, the utter awe in his expression still lingered. He was dazed when Sebamiewet saw him, and continued to be dazed as time went on. Eventually Sebamiewet was called. Ra invited her into his holy demense and sat her down.

“Sebamiewet. Last time I saw you, you were still a fledgling. I have missed a great deal.”

“Seems so.”

“What have I missed?”

“Well, first of all, it’s really nice to meet you. You’re so cool.” She took a moment to assess whether or not she could sass Ra, decided she couldn’t, wrinkled her nose, and said, “Well, I think you probably know all of the details already. I don’t want to bore you by telling you everything again. What do you want to know from my perspective?”

“I want to know everything. That’s precisely why I called you here. We have plenty of time.”

Thus bid, Sebamiewet gave her version of the story from start to finish, answering any clarifying questions Ra had. But curiosity tugged at her.

“Horus’s death was left in ambiguity. You might find it beneficial to find out what killed him, lest it threaten us. If you like, I can…”

“Thank you. That won’t be necessary.”

“So, you know then?”

“Yes.”

She attempted to read him, but found his demeanor even less forthcoming than Isis’s. “What killed him?”

“Sebamiewet, that information was given to me in confidence. Rest assured, it will be dealt with appropriately.”

Sebamiewet nodded her acceptance and asked, “Since you know what did it, is there any chance we can at least recover his body so he can rest?”

“No. It has been lost.”

After expressing her condolences for Horus and his family, she went on. “This is very impertinent, but sorry, I have to ask: why were you asleep? What made you like that?”

“I was not asleep. I was dead. I do not know why. I do not know why I rose.”

Immediately she began backpedaling. “I just wanted to know in case I could do something next time it happened, but okay, I guess not.” She continued from there, eventually leading into the foremost concern on her mind.
“You know what happened with Derrick. Things were going fairly well under his charge — not perfect, but we were working with what we had. And, after studying all of you for so long, I thought I had a clue when I entered this family but… everything that happened after Set’s return… I learned a lot.” She paused. “I’m trying to be respectful of everyone and not bitter about what happened, but I’m hoping that you can see the wisdom of trying to break out of these patterns we are all in. I assume you know that Derrick attempted to make peace and it was ruined by distrust and discord.” She took a moment to mutter wrathfully about Eris.

“Sebamiewet.”

“Sorry. As I was saying, my friends and I busted our asses to bring the old gods back. We lost people; some of us died. And we brought so many back… but so many we returned to their places of honor have been lost. Irrepairably this time. If we don’t learn to be different, it’s going to happen to us too. There are people among these gods that I value too much to see that happen. We have to change. We have to… to become better people.” She sighed heavily. “My son has grown up so far with so little I… it wounds me deeply.” She took another breath. “I lost Derrick, and it all had to do with politics and mistrust. It has to stop or the Netjer will wind up just like the Aesir.”

Without comment, he dismissed her. “Thank you, Sebamiewet.”

“Before I go… am I… doing a good job? With the stars and all?”

“That remains to be seen.”

She hung her head, but another thought occurred to her just before she left. She turned and said, “I’m glad you’re resurrected again. I’m not sure if you like me, but… if you wanna… stop by sometime?”

“Thank you, Sebamiewet.”

With that, she departed and returned to Abirakhet, who had come down from his awed state, and their son. Hugs went around, and much joy was shared.

Ra proceeded to speak with every last one of the Netjer. Once that was finished, he emerged from his demense and began handing out assignments. Many were familiar, but changed to accommodate the functions of the New World. Sebamiewet was tasked with learning the history of the stars. Abirakhet was tasked with guarding Ra’s body at night alongside Set; but he would remain alive and active during the day. Iahkemet was to continue her duties with the dead in the Castle Under the Sea. Djedferen was to collect and record the Ren of all things. Mesnehnef was stripped of his powers and left to live the rest of his life as he saw fit. Ahu was not given any tasks, but told to report to Ra at his majority of 15 years of age.

They were sent out immediately to begin their assignments. With that, the day finally dawned.

Ragnarök ended, as all things must.

When it was over, they regrouped. Sigyn sought her boys which she had hidden away from the eyes of the world, and brought them back with her. Those who remained went to Idavollr, led by Vidar and Vali the elder. There they found Baldur, Nanna, and Hod waiting for them. They discussed many things: Ragnarök, the runes, and what to do now.

The Vanir — Njord, Freya, Hnoss, Gersmi, and Frigg — were released from their ties to the Aesir. They decided to return to Vanaheim. Ken offered to lead them home; they readily accepted his offer.

Lif and Lifthrasir emerged from Hodmimis Holt and beheld with awe the renewed World. Abundance waited for them; so they settled in and started on their destiny.

Quipatlatl

Ezmamacateotl

Mahquipia

Ichtacahuazinatl

Necalli

Teyolloihuicac

Shortly after Tlilocelotlpilli met his final fate, every last one of the Teotl (save Huitzilopochtli) gathered together for a council, including Necalli, Ezmamacateotl, Mahquipia, Ichtacahuazinatl, and Quipatlatl’s children.

Together, they helped shape the Sixth World, and sought to find a leader for it, someone suitable to drive the sun across the sky. Quipatlatl, who had successful leadership experience with not one but two nations, embodied the nature of teotl, and exemplified the values of the Teotl, not to mention had successfully secured an alliance with the deadly Tzitztimitl, was by far the most qualified. She accepted the mantle as the Sixth Sun.

However, she would require power to get that far, just as Huitzilopochtli had. So the Teotl began to discuss proper sacrificial rites.

Ezmamacateotl stepped to the fore, stating that calling upon the people to sacrifice the amount that the Teotl would require would irrevocably destroy the people and collapse the Teotl. Instead, he volunteered himself, willingly agreeing to have his throat cut and be hung upside down so that he may bleed out for as long as they need him to. After much conferring, the Teotl agreed. Subdued, Mahquipia offered to guard her husband’s body and blood and tend to the temple.

That arranged, Quipatlatl freed the Found of their obligations to the Teotl. Ichtacahuazinatl would no longer be called upon by the Teotl; Necalli was freed from his betrothal; and Teyolloihuicac would be returned to where his soul belonged.

Amphipyra

Lysandra

Zeus stormed in to the seat of the Theoi, utterly furious. Hera met him with perfect composure. He demanded an explanation from his wife of all the things that had happened, and why she had exiled their son and grandchildren.

She elaborated on what Ares had failed to. Zeus’s fury faded in favor of complete shock. Ares, seeing that his advantage had been taken from him, slinked back some, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, but protesting that none of this was fair.

Hera finished as calmly as she had started.

“It’s good that you’re back.”

Trying not to be chastened, he replied, “Yes. So it is.”

“Now that you’ve returned, my king, what are we going to next?”

He turned to his oldest son, steel in his eyes. “Ares, you stay. Hera, summon Hermes. We’ll be back in a few hours.”

With Hermes’s assistance, Zeus went to Hades and spoke with Hecate and Athena. He begged Hecate to return Athena to him; but she refused.

Zeus returned empty-handed, with no recourse but to call Ares to trial for treason and kinslaying, two of the most severe crimes the Theoi could commit; and also his warlike children were to be tried for treason.

When the trial began, Eris bore witness that it was Amphipyra who dealt the killing blow to Athena. Immediately Zeus sent Hermes to summon Amphipyra.

Hermes arrived at the Bibliotheca Consilium a nervous wreck, and sought his daughter. He paced about, thinking aloud.

“It’s reasonable to say you that you cut your ties with the Theoi because Zeus didn’t really care to foster your skills and talents, you weren’t given much to work with, and besides! we were gone most of that time anyway not to mention that you’re set up here having made a name for yourself that isn’t Theoi and I doubt Zeus will want to risk a political incident with another pantheon…”

Lysandra put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. We’re ready to go to the trial now.”

“… You want a cigarette?”

“Thank you. Don’t smoke.”

They proceeded to the trial. Lysandra presented herself as Amphipyra’s advocate, insisting that she was under her jurisdiction, and that she had acted well within her rights. Zeus asked for Lysandra’s credentials, for which she cited the Bibliotheca Consilium, hand-built by Athena in front of all eyes to specifically honor her; and she also mentioned that she was responsible for organizing and tending to those who had brought back all of the old gods.

Zeus accepted this and told her to make her case.

Lysandra defended Amphipyra, citing that her place in the cosmos was to carry out retribution at any and all costs to those who ask of it. She called Amphipyra to state what her experience of retribution was. She also called various witnesses to Amphipyra’s vengeful fury, including when she had been called upon to slay Athena. Said witnesses also reported that Ares had claimed the kill for himself.

With the evidence stacked against Ares, Zeus acquitted Amphipyra quickly and ruled that Ares was at fault and sentenced him to execution, and Phobos, Deimos, and Enyo to eternal imprisonment in Tartarus.

After the trial, Aphrodite approached Zeus, begging him to have mercy on her children. Zeus expressed his condolences, but firmly stated that he would not go back on his word. Defeated, Aphrodite and her remaining children returned to the sea, asking Triton if he would allow Adonis to go with her. Triton accepted, and together they left to start a new home.

Artemis, knowing that she had chosen exile, wandered the World until she’d found Apollo. She persuaded him to join her in wandering the cosmos, unbound by the thorny political and social ties of the Theoi; and he accepted.

Later, Zeus met with Ra to reestablish their age-old alliance.

Sweeping Day came.

Clinging to the boughs of the springy but strong young Aspen, the Bogovi experienced the cosmos being swept together, crushed, kneaded, and remolded. They were not spared, each going through what Yesen, Dobrozhe, Morevuka, and Mokosits had gone through, the branches of the Aspen being woven into their shapes. Once more Svarog shattered his third leg; and once more, when he finished and saw that his creation was good, curled up into the great golden egg to sleep until the next Sweeping Day.

Each of the Bogovi descended Aspen, and the Lord Father Svarozhich called them to order. He started on new decrees:

The Lord Father Svarozhich issues a formal apology to Lada for the theft of her memories and will, and releases Dazhbog to live with her if that is something they desire. Dobrozhe will take Dazhbog’s old place should he choose to leave.

The mortal interference ban is lifted; however, some new, stricter regulations are in place in regards to the interactions allowed between the Bogovi and the mortals.

The Lady Morena may bear another child with whomever will consent to father one on her.

Mokosits is now an official member of the Bogovi and is authorized to carry out any and all tasks related to his new station; and furthermore is also afforded all the privileges of his station.

Restrictions on inter-pantheon fraternization are lifted.

The divorce case filed by Lady Pizamar is re-opened and is furthermore approved and finalized forthwith.

“As for Yesen…” He bowed his head to her. “Your continued existence is not for me to determine.” After a moment, he added pointedly, “I hope you will exist responsibly.”

His hands shook.

Another step.

Pain seared him. Hot and wet gushed out his front, trickled down to his knees. Farther.

Bakersfield’s wall was right there in front of him. The jungle was pulling back, trickling away.

Another step.

His foot caught on a root.

He tumbled. Hit the ground.

Lightning split through his belly.

Solid darkness flickered from him. He’d been impaled on it.

Blood trickled down his legs.

His heart dropped. Broke.

Alejo’s snarl faded. Lips falling slowly back into place over his white teeth. Eyes going wide. Then he let go, his hands shaking.

Back in the jungle. Right in front of his face were some of his insides. Strung over a plant and some roots, jutting out of the ground.

Vision.

He had to make it back.

He pushed himself up. Roared in Russian at the agony, daring it to get worse, daring it to try and take him down. His elbows trembled. He dragged a knee under him. Another. Put his dumb, nerveless foot flat. Gripped the tree beside him. Pulled himself up. Fumbled at his pale, worm-like guts, until they were no longer dragging on the ground.

The last of the roar left his raw throat.

Another step.

“Rube!”

Galen.

Where was Galen?

No. Had to keep moving. If he waited, he’d die before he could deliver the message.

In which Star-Bringer and Morevuka enjoy some chats

Star-Bringer[Sept. 2030]
Sanura was working again, and not at some ephemeral never ending duty but for once on something she -could- get done. She was sitting near her forge [which by this time she’s gotta have one somewhere ]. She’d set up a sort of automatic water delivery for any time she was preasant and not using the coals. So while sweating wasn’t ideal for most people when working on metal, she was deft and agile enough to get away with it.. most of the time. Currently she’s not making something with magic so it’s all handywork and having a hell of a time getting any of the fecking rings off the armor to tailor it to shape. The damn things were almsot too good and she smirked a moment as she gave a faint shake of her head and then returned to it. "Ya know I bet Bear would have a complete melt down if he were here to see this… " she pauses and then snorts softly “melt down.. forge .. pfft” she blows a stray lock of hair up from her brow only to have it fall right back down and her attention going back to the fitting of the armor. Shaking her head. “Still I hope I’m right that he’d rather see the stuff being used than sit up on a shelf.. I know I’d be pretty pissed if something I poured blood and sweat into.. literally was left unused.” she falls silent a few moments save for small grunts of effort over closing a loop or working one free. She swiftly counts across the rings and then back and nods. “getting there, it shouldn’t be so hard.. then I get to try and refocus it, that’s going to be great fun” said with a tone of mock dread. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but it was a challenge and should be interesting. “Can’t beleive no one woke me up when the kids did something so crazy” she mumbles, though it’s a half hearted grumping.

MorevukaThe thick shadow below the oven grows a little deeper, and there’s a snort of humor at the mention of Bear’s meltdown. The silence comes back, filled with Sanura’s quiet noises and the heavy sounds of the forge.
Sanura ‘grumps’ about the kids, and the silence becomes momentarly distracted. Then it focuses, that space before someone is about to start to speak.
“If we woke you up everytime they did something crazy, you would never sleep.” Dovile’s voice is dry, and it sounds a little muffled, as if she was speaking through a thin layer of earth. There’s humor, but also sympathy. It’s distressing to miss an event like that.

Star-BringerSanura looks up and then around her trying to judge where the shadow wolf is likely lounging in the sweltering heat. A faint smirk on her lips at the very true statement. “Yeah.. that’s probably true..I probably don’t need to know -how- true it is” she chuckles a little self derisively. “Seems they handled it.. quite summarily. It’s really about time.. that woman was to say the least.. unwell” she pauses “I do worry a little that it came to a beheading but.. considering the circumstances.. maybe that was for the best.. a swift end that caused the uproar to end swiftly..” Her tone of voice makes it clear she’s not sure at all about it but at the same time the question is one that she likely can never be sure of! "I’m.. strangely proud though.. they were needed and went to action to help, and Galen.. can you get over his help. That’s the sort of thing I probably should have done.. only.. perhaps not.. " her brow furrows as she closes a link around a few others. “mmmph!” a satisified sound as it falls into place neatly. “The ends and the means yet.. are those now ex cons.. actually slaves now I mean not that it was on purpose but.. perhaps it was..” she voices one of the other cunundrums that roll around when she’s silent and busy with her hands.

Morevuka“Mm.” Dovile says. She listens as Sanura voices her various concerns, her pride, and her uncertinty.
After a pause, she says, “Not all the bandits came. To help. Is that better?” It’s a genuine question.

Star-BringerSanura hmms softly and considers that.. rising to hang the suit up and judge it’s fall and fit as she does so. “well.. a little… perhaps it then means that those who were of a weaker will, quickly to be drawn into such things again… were influenced to better ends as it were.” she frowns “though it does raise the concern of those who were not so drawn in.. and what they will turn their hands too.. still.. I suppose that is a problem for tommorow unless I care to predict crime and punish it before it occurs.. which I do not.”

MorevukaDovile snorts at that, and the shadows under the fordge fire shift. A muzzel pokes out of the thin space, and then the wolf crawls out the rest of the way, shaking itself into full size as it comes. It comes up to about Sanura’s chest, and the shadow below the fire now seems thin and pale. The wolf sniffs at the metal, and then wanders over to a cluttered corner and lays down. It’s form passes through the tools and waiting projects.
Today, its eyes burn like dying embers.
After a moment, its mouth opens. The words fall out like unnoticed drops from the tip of a leaf. “I am glad. That would.” A pause. “Be uncomfortable.”

Star-BringerSanura scoffs softly “Dovile the queen of understatement” she smiles a little and sits down as she mentally reviews the notes Bear left behind. Glad for her excelent memory as she’d returned the notebook to his father. Hurrumph and a slight wrinkle of her nose before she gives a sigh. “So when do we get to tell them not to grow up anymore” she fusses softly as she starts jotting down various notes and ways to make the changes shes got in mind.

Morevuka“Too late.” Dovile says, glad her confession flew under the radar so easily. “They are almost done. Should have told them three years ago so they had time to stop.” She’s amused. They shot up like trees. That was what happened when you got distracted.

Star-BringerSanura gives a faint groan at that and sighs “well I’ll know for next time then!” she jests softly. Clearly doing two things at a time doesn’t make for the most observant Sanura. “I’m glad they can take care of themselves so well though.. I mean it was rather obvious they could before but that was.. quite certainly proof of their safety you know” she questions as she puts a faint cut on her arm and tests it on one of the discarded rings to see what happens.

Morevuka“Mhm.” Dovile says, as the wolf lays its head down on its paws, still watching the blood magic. It’s clear she’s not convinced they’ll be safe, even though they are quite capiable of taking care of themselves.

Star-BringerSanura smiles a little bit and glances wolf-wards “couldn’t let me believe the uncertainty?” she questions with a soft chuckle. She proceeds to do a few more tests on some of the rings.

Morevuka“I could. If you like.”

Star-BringerA shake of her head “nono” she sighs softly as she glances over. “I’m trying to quell the inner worrier but I can’t do that without testing it right?”

Morevuka“Mhm.”
Then, after another pause, “The Bear wanted me to make something for that book you are working on. You want that?”

Star-BringerSanura hmms and looks up “Oh.. oh certainly, what was it he wanted your help with?” [I know, I think Sanura was quite distracted when you were talkin’ that] She smiles a little and then frowns slightly “It will be some time before it’s complete so no rush is likely..”

Morevuka“He said something skrimshawed for the cover. No other details. I thought, maybe a river, fish, birds, shit like that?” The wolf blinks at her, slowly.

Star-BringerShe hmms softly as she considers that "ah that could be lovely.. could you.. do a sort of… emm like a fade from the wild life and flora to shelves of books?

Morevuka“Probably. Give me something to do with my hands.”

Star-BringerSanura nods to that and then falls silent as she focuses on the job.

Many coversations later…

Star-BringerSanura lets the link with Derrick drop, after seeing him ‘off to work’ as it were. She moves to a rocker and sinks down onto the stuffed cushions she’d sewn perhaps a few weeks before Wes’s arrival. Looking down at the dark haired baby in her arms she smiles a little and nestles him close as he fusses some and blinks sleepily. Quietly she tells the little baby things he’ll not remember but she hopes he’ll know. About how much his daddy wishes he could be here and loves him and other such sentimental things. As the baby drifts off into sleep she lays her head back and swallows thickly. “ah how are we going to keep this up” she asks herself.. the air? just as if voicing it aloud will give her some new answer she’d not found yet.

MorevukaThe shadow under her rocker says, “Sasha has a hug for you. You want it?”

Star-BringerSanura smiles a small sad smile. “always, hugs are the best” she replies as she sits up a little and dashes wetness from her cheeks.

MorevukaThe shadow slithers up the back of the chair and then washes over Sanura’s shoulders. A moment later it thickens, and there is a sensation of warmth, affection, and courage. Along with it comes a kind of certainty of the future, a golden hope veiwed through dark thorns.
“He also says ‘Congradulations’. Only with more glee.” An impression of Sasha-glee.

Star-BringerSanura gives a faint sound of surprise and then laughs softly and carefully so as not to wake Wes “well that’s a neat trick you have there” she murmurs softly “Thank you Sasha, hopefully you can come visit soon” she intones aware that either Sasha will hear her or Dovile will pass it along. “Dovile, any chance of you digging your way out to come by for tea at least once and hold the baby?” she inquires without expectation but as an invitation

Morevuka“Okay, maybe just once.” Joking reluctance. The shadow retreats under the chair. “You want me to bring muffins? They’re fresh.” A pause. “Or did you want me to wait?”

Star-BringerSanura smiles a little “well perhaps wait till he’s awake again.. a few hours at most” she says with a faint chuckle. “Oh Muffins, I’ll have tea ready” Sanura would see if Lisa is free to join them and she’d dress Wes next time he needs chaning in something suitibly dark colored so as not to shock Dovile’s senses too much
After setting Wes down for a nap Sanura goes to have a few moments to herself and straighten up. She sets up so that tea will be easily prepaired at Dovile’s arrival. She then settles down to draw, a hard bound book that soon has many ‘photos’ of Wes doing.. basically nothing but trying to show the different nose scrunches and mouth blurbles that Derrick hadn’t gotten to see in the last few weeks.

MorevukaA few hours pass. Dovile has to talk to the Lord Stribog for an hour and a half and swear an oath before leaving Domobog. She fades into the shadows infront of the library and then walks in. A few twisted minutes later, there is a gentle knock on the door of Sanura’s sitting room.

Star-BringerSanura rises and closes her ‘photo album’ as she walks to the door and then opens it up. She -almost- hugs Dovile then steps back to allow the other woman to enter the room unmolested. She gives a faint smirk “it’s good to see you” she greets with her level of enthusiasm set down to reasonable.

MorevukaDovile looks at her, dark golden eyes under her old green head scarf. “Go on.” She says, in her normal dry, almost horse voice. “I have been training for you.” She opens her arms.
Behind them, two wolves ease out of the shadows. One has a cloth covered basket in it’s mouth. It places it on the table and fades. The other walkes across the room and waits, pateint, behind Sanura.

Star-BringerSanura laughs a little and gives Dovile a warm hug, that she makes comfortably brief. Thanks to Derrick hugs she’s gotten better at telling when to step back, not to say that she always let’s him go when he’s ready but other people she definately does. She smiles as she ushers Dovile in and closes the door behind her. “it really is a treat to see you I worried you wouldn’t be able to get away.” in his bouncey seat [ recreated via memory and logic ] Wes coos a little but is content enough not to fuss or cry, at the moment.

MorevukaDovile shrugs. “It was rough.” It’s hard to tell how serious she is. When the hug is done, she gestures to the waiting wolf. “My mother sent a gift.”
The wolf hunkered down at the gesture, then began to rock, like a cat barfing. A moment later a huge cermaic crock decorated with flowers slides out of the wolfs mouth. Steam is easing up around the edges of the lid. “It is stuffed potato cakes. They will stay warm until you are done eating them.”

Star-BringerSanura smiles a little sympathetically, though now as she’s quite.. stiffled herself it’s also with a new empathy. She brightens and then winces only a little at the hairball like delivery. She smiles “Oh that’s so thoughtful, I’ll have to write her a note of thanks. And explain that I likely cannot visit for some time” she heaves a sigh and then clears her throat. “please make yourself comfortable.” she turns and does tea things to get them hot and ready for drinking. She looks from the hot water to the infant and then back and then visibly forces herself not to be that insane person.

MorevukaDovile sits, tucking one foot under her. Her boots are missing today. Her socks are thick and grey. “Mind if I smoke?” It’s clear from her tone that she’s engaging in some friendly baiting.

Star-BringerSanura takes the bait for a second and then gives Dovile a look of ‘yoooou’ . “I think Wes probably has anti smoke shielding somehow thanks to all the love from everyone before he arrived but I would rather keep his clothes smelling like baby” she pokes her tongue out at Dovile and then as the water heats she walks over and carefully lifts the baby from the seat. “care for something else to do with your hands” she offers to Dovile, though she’s looking at Wes with that totally in love with my new little one smile.

MorevukaDovile gives Sanura her almost-smile. “Well.” She says, “So long as it is the smell, and not you being over-protective, ja?”
When Sanura offers her the baby Dovile pauses a moment, evaluating, eyes sharp. He’d seemed happy, but with babies, who could tell? After a breath, Dovile takes the baby. “Good job.” She says. “He has all his limbs.”
He winds up half on one shoulder, head and neck supported by a casual arm. Dovile has clearly done this before. “I remeber when Sasha was this small.” She shakes her head.

Star-BringerSanura smiles a little “only a touch of that I promise.” she assures as she settles the little one with Dovile and goes about serving tea with utmost care. She smirks a little bit “yes, I thought that was a good way to go, at least start with all ones parts before taking after Daddy” she glances over and blinks “Sasha was -never- that small!?” she exclaims with a soft laugh.

MorevukaDovile snorts at the missing limbs joke, flipping the cloth off the muffin basket. Warm, fragrant steam puffs up. They’re fresh, and apple flavored.
“He was.” She looks out of the corner of her eye at the child. “Smaller. He came a few weeks early.”

Star-BringerSanura sniffs the air appricatively when the muffins are revealed. “oh that’s lovely” before she shakes her head in some shock. " well he certainly made up for that in spades didn’t he" she marvles with a smile still on her lips. She’d fix the tea to tastes and serve the muffins so Dovile can eat and drink with the available hand. Sanura is sure to commit this image to memory so she can draw it later.

Morevuka“No. Still small. I told him to eat his potatoes.” Dovile’s face is completely strieght.

Star-BringerSanura snorts softly at that and settles in for a while to chat face to face.

MorevukaAfter a while, and the first cup of tea, Dovile asks, “How are you?”
She sort of already knows, but it’s important to ask.

Star-BringerSanura sort of pauses with the cup near her lips and takes a little sip before setting it down. "I.. coudl be better.. " she murmurs softly “I could also be much worse.. at least we’re safe but.. I’m .. it hurts that Derrick and Wes are missing so much of each other.. and I’m missing getting to see it..” she murmurs “I .. can only sit and wait for Ra to awaken but.. Gods.. how long will that be..” she half asks but really who has such answers anyway.

MorevukaDovile listens. Her face stays blank, but there is quiet empathy in her eyes. To the question, Dovile says nothing. Even if she knew, she wouldn’t be allowed to say, not so soon.
Instead, after a long enough pause to respect Sanura’s pain, she says, “Will you take the baby to see him?” The treaty with Set makes the situation feel more settled, and she could walk from Lisa’s library to Brendan’s castle without going outside.

Star-BringerSanura shakes her head “I want to but.. it’s not safe.. Wes is seen as a security for Derricks position. I can take him to Brendans safely but.. Derrick isn’t.. I mean.. I can’t see him.. so I don’t know if it would just be a fresh torment for Derrick. Seeing his son when he cannot be seen.” she frowns slightly. "Bren and Aida lend me their sight so that I might see him but.. I don’t know how that would.. effect Wes if it would work at all.. "

MorevukaDovile nods, switches the baby over to the other shoulder and takes a drink of tea. Obviously she’d sorted this out with her husband.

Star-BringerSanura further expands that she’d had the idea of at least arranging a ‘meeting’ for the two with a .. grand event that would ensure too many witnesses for Set to dare to try anything.. but upon further thought and insight from others .. well the idea was they want Wes to be as uninvolved with the politics as possible at least as long as they can protect him from it. So such a cerimony would be ill advised.

MorevukaDovile listens. “It sounds like you’re worried to take it—him to Brendan and Aida’s… ?” She breaks off a piece of her muffin with her free hand and tosses it to the wolf under the table.

Star-BringerShe shakes her head a little “no.. not so much that as.. worried that seeing Wes and not being able to interact may hurt Derrick more than help.. and beyond that if we took steps to let Wes see through Bren or Aida’s eyes would that be.. too much for him or warp his baby mind” she frowns. “If only I could make him.. little baby ghost glasses, like that movie.. 13 Ghosts, did you happen to see it?”

MorevukaDovile pauses and then, “Did you ask Derrick?” She keeps her tone dry, but it’s clear that she thinks Sanura is being a little silly. The concern about mind linking with a baby seems reasonable though.

Star-Bringer"I haven’t wanted to put even more on his mind.. " she sighs “I’m trying to make it as easy for him as possible.. but I’m afraid I’m not doing any good”

Morevuka“Okay. So you’ll ask in a few days then?”

Star-Bringer"Maybe.. once I check with Brendan and Aida.. I know that seeing the dead was.. unpleasant at best for Brendan as a lad..so.. " she taps her nail lightly on the table. “maybe I can make him.. Daddy vision of some sort” she murmurs thoughtfully.

In which the last lords finally come home

Above, the SunSpider slid through the sky, streaks from the spring clouds drawn along its contours, trailing in thin, ribbonlike streams.

And then it swerved. The streams wobbled, startled.

A shining egg sang through what would have been the SunSpider’s path. It dropped to the earth.

Five more whistled through the sky.

Below, the autumn dream’s step whispered through the wood. She crossed through shadow and flickered across sunbeams.

Below, the mother’s breath was stolen as if she’d been struck. She paused to look out the bloom-bordered kitchen window, and then lifted flour-dusted hands from the partially-kneaded dough to gather up her skirts as she hurried from her house.

Below, the moon’s heart stopped as the music’s song silenced. They waited, taut and knowing, certain but uncertain.

Below, the spring stilled. Flowers mid-bloom stayed half-closed for a moment, before opening further as she crossed from them, seeking the morning and evening stars.

Below, the prophet closed each of the four folios scattered around him and gathered them together under an arm. Impact rippled through the earth and a wave of soil pattered at the boulder at his back.

Silvery starmetal rippled and surged forth, its rolling guided by an unseen hand into the beginnings of some kind of shape. Some pushed forward ahead of the rest, drawing itself long and narrow. More began to gather at the tip, spreading wide.

And then a hand grasped it.

Another ripple pushed through.

Starmetal grasped around the hand, fingers gripping. Color swept from where the palms met, and the silver drew back from it, revealing the form that had sought shape.

— Welcome back, my Lord.

Eyes opened, blinking. Ears shifted. The Lord Father looked upon all creation and found it had become foreign to him.

Except the familiar faces.

— Please do away with the politeness. I have no patience for it today.

The prophet tilted his head, four smiles flickering over him, conciliatory, wry, smug, and relieved.

— You have been gone seventeen years, my Lord. Someone has unraveled Fate, but he has been eliminated. The Sudice are hard-pressed to repair their tapestry. Those of us who are not present and accounted for will not be returning. The rest of us are stable, for now. Your son has borne us well on his shoulders.

— That is… not as detailed as usual.

— Forgive me for saying so, but it doesn’t take me to know that you are tired. And you would be better served to be well-rested before you begin making the decisions that will need to be made.

The Lord Father drew back, turning inward. Indeed, the weight of all pressed at him, bowing him as if he were not yet cooled, as if he were still soft.

— Yes. I may know, but I need to hear it: you have arranged for me to sleep?

— Yes, my Lord.

— And I will be receiving a more thorough report in time?

— Yes, my Lord.

— One more thing.

The prophet waited as the Lord Father’s eyes turned to the sky.

— Is that a 2006 Alfa Romeo Spider?

— Indeed, my Lord.

— Why?

— Because there has already been a Ferrari, Lamborghini, Maserati, Lotus, Porche, Jaguar, McLaren…

The Lord Father’s attention returned to the prophet. A shard of a smile pressed at the edge of his mouth.

— It is a good thing you are so useful, Svantovit, otherwise I would smite you.

— I thought it was because you loved me for my wit and charm and good looks.

More humor seeped in, like the heat of a forge. The smile faded in favor of matter-of-factness.

— Do not forget punctuality.

The prophet tilted his head as if in concession.

— Thank you, my Lord. That too.

— Ah, Svantovit. It does my heart good to see you.

Her heart ached at the sight of him.

A bright smile dawned over his features, smooth and youthful. Happiness as clear as a spring sun was a-bloom, from him and around him, chasing back the apprehensive fog that had crept in around the edges.

His gentle hands cupped his girls’ faces in turn, and brought their brows to his smiling lips. His arms encircled their shoulders and he hugged them close to him.

It was as if he had never been missing. Watching him, all things were right again, and all troubles would fade and be forgotten.

Dazhbog released his girls and reached to her. Sweet words waited on his tongue, a sweet kiss waited on his mouth.

As their lips parted, trouble waited in the spring’s aching heart. Trouble which would not be forgotten.

Could she leave this behind? He loved her. He was gentle, warm, kind, cheerful, bright, and had not wronged her or their daughters once. Nor would he.

And yet… she had been wronged.

Their girls’ brightness dimmed. Concern clouded his brow and covered his lips.

— My little fish. My love. You seem so sad.

But had she been? She loved him. And she would have loved him. Both times she’d met him for the first time, the stirrings in her heart had been the exact same. And the eons that followed, of joy, of hardship, of anger and sorrow and love and contentment, could not possibly have been false.

Her daughter, the evening star, moved to her side and put a hand on her shoulder.

You have every right to feel hurt and confused and betrayed by this. You weren’t trusted with the opportunity to make any sort of choice and you didn’t even know it.

Lord Dobrozhe’s words rang with truth, then and now. His concern, his sympathetic smile, had been an echo of her lord husband’s.

— Darling. Let us return home. You have missed a great deal.

She turned from him, to show him the way.

— Lada. Please. What troubles you?

The words cut through her. Around, the blooming flowers lost some of their color.

— I will tell you once you are by the warmth of the hearth. And then… — She took in a breath. — And then I have to leave, my lord husband.

— I… have to leave.

The words drifted like the fading final refrain. Birds chirped, branches groaned, and leaves rustled. It was going to be over, and the rest of the world was forging onward with its rolling, indifferent gait.

And then the moon let out a small breath. — Yes.

Midnight’s sparkle had left nightfall eyes. A familiar shadow was cast over them.

Was this really how it was to end?

Surely there was just enough space for one last kiss, to seal their happiness before it was lost forever to yearning dreams and unvoiced longing? And if not… would it be so bad if he were to witness it? Or… would it be so bad to be caught and punished? After all, he would see nothing but this last token, this one gentle defiance. The rest would be theirs.

But no. That was the impulse of the hopeful girl who had not known how deep suffering could go.

But the queen knew.

There were more important things than happiness. There were more important things than closure. They had both agreed on this at the very beginning.

She rose and began to turn away from the bower.

— Shepherdess.

The moon’s soft hands took her own, halting her departure.

A tattoo drummed against the queen from within. The moon’s gaze was turned down, her dark eyes hidden under lids and lashes.

If anyone could be—if anyone would be—that hopeful girl, it would be Chors.

Lord Creator, let her not be. Pizamar could not turn her away and the suffering would be too deep, too wide.

Lord Creator, let her be. Let her want them to be damned together as much as she wanted it.

— No matter what, you are and always will be my dearest friend.

And then, she lifted a hand and kissed her queen’s ring.

A kiss from a subject.

An acceptance of the pain that was to be inflicted. Trust that it would be nothing but necessary.

A seal over their happiness.

Creator of All, there was nothing else in existence as beautiful and elegant as Chors’s grace.

Their fingers slipped from each other. The queen turned away, and did not turn back. Could not turn back.

Damn it all.

— Damn it all, Veles, what did you do!?

Thunder roared out of the crater, over the smoking scar in the forestry around them. Birds flocked into the air, frantic wingbeats rustling like leaves. Groaning and creaking and cracking from ruined trees offered a wan retort to the demand still crackling in the sky. The rumbling echo rolled and pulsed and faded.

He was alone. And he didn’t know where in the world he was or what he had been doing or how long he had been gone.

And Mokosh was going to be livid.

There was a soft groan, somewhere nearby, muffled by the earth.

— I wish I knew.

Veles.

Thunder roared out of the crater again. The storm roiled. Around, an unfamiliar forest. And another crater.

Of course. Hiding, like a coward.

Good. Perun couldn’t wait to chase him from his burrow.

That crater… it was likely some kind of trick, a trap. Created to confuse and mislead. Too obvious. The deceitful lord of grain had a twisty mind, which bore twisty thoughts. Perun had to fight fire with fire. He had to think like him.

He had to lead him into thinking he was winning. His vanity and arrogance would be his undoing.

— Where are you!? If you wish to call yourself a man, show yourself!

— What if I wish to call myself… say… a goose?

His voice, whispering like a field of grain bowing before the wind. Nearby, but anywhere. Everywhere.

Hands itched, crackling closed into fists.

— Then do me the courtesy of presenting me your neck so I may wring it!

There! A rustle!

— I think you have the wrong idea about what qualifies as courtesy for a goose.

Suddenly, a tree crackled and blackened as fire danced upon it. A young buck lay twitching and spasming.

That sly bastard.

The thunder rolled away again, leaving only the fire cheerfully babbling. Perun shushed it. The hunt was still on.

— And I think you have forgotten what a goose looks like. That is most unambiguously a hart. That is… it was. Now it is venison.

The voice was to his left.

Perun struck right.

Nothing but air met him.

— Speaking of which, would you do me a favor and bring that home to your lady wife? I find myself hungry for her venison. Perhaps she will see fit to grant me some.

Behind and to the right, this time.

Perun struck right.

More air.

That slippery degenerate.

— I will bring it home! It will be a fine feast! And you will get nothing but bones!

— My dear Lord Perun. Forgive me. Let us do away with banter for a moment. Did you understand my second meaning there?

What was he going on about!?

— What are you going on about!?

Second meaning? What could he possibly mean by…

Oh.

— Good. Given your response, for a moment I was very concerned.

Oh.

— No, I didn’t mean… I would never… — Unthinkable! — If you didn’t talk so… so… so damn twisty then we wouldn’t have this problem!

— Yes, yes. Forgive me… I just needed to clarify. I was… in disbelief at the… the… full measure of the simplicity of your thoughts.

Another rustle! Behind him!

There was no mistaking it. This was no stag. These were hurried footsteps, heading straight towards him.

Excellent. Perun would wait. He would lead him on, making him think that he had the upper hand. And then he would whirl at the very last moment. The look of surprise on the lord of grain’s face would be spectacular.

Was she crying? Or perhaps about to cry? It was in her voice. But he couldn’t catch a good look at her expression between the thicket of her hair and her kissing.

— My gold, what… ?

And then blows pattered over him.

— Do you know what it was like while you were gone!? — smack — Poor, overburdened Sashunya had to keep the hearth lit for me! — smack smack — I had nothing to do but clean — smack — and cook — smack — and garden — smack — and weave — smack — and talk to my children — smack — and sit in the sauna!

No, she was definitely not crying. She was yelling. It was yelling time.

— You make no sense, woman! How is that any different?

Another hailstorm of palms and pads of fists. It was too much. All he could do was hope his hands would deflect most of the confusion.

— You idiot! Aren’t you listening? The difference was you weren’t there!

And then the storm settled. Droplets like a budding rain sprinkled over him.

She was crying.

He knew what to do now.

— Moshka… my darling… come here…

He found his arms and enfolded her. She buried her face in his chest and settled into his hug, trembling with her sobs. He pulled the quiet about him like a thick cloud. All he had to do was ensure that his noise didn’t leak out.

It was being… difficult. Moreso than usual, that was. He had been gone? Where’d he been? Where where they? Where was Dub? What language was the sky speaking? What had happened?

And was that a 2006 Alfa Romeo Spider?

No. Quiet and still. It was once an eon Moshka needed this from him. He would do this, and he would do it well.

Milky white drifted across the bright, clear blue. Damp winds carried the scent of dewed blooms. Chirping and chattering, bellows and whispers, tentatively began to drift through the air. It was spring. Mid-morning. Nearby, hearthfires chattered to him like the prickling of hair standing on end.

Eventually the shivering and shaking enclosed by his arms began to calm to mild aftershocks.

Now it was safe to start asking questions. Probably.

Something dark crouched at the edge of the crater, just at the edge of view.

— Lady Mokosh, pardon the interruption, but we are mounting the wrong end.

The voice, while as low and whispery as ever, was very near now, rolling down the sides of the crater.

Mokosh began shaking again, hard.

Veles.

Of all the lowest things he could—

Mokosh lifted her face. More tears rolled down her cheeks, but low, helpless laughter choked through a throat still constricted by sobs.

What.

After a moment she looked to the dark figure, schooling her twitching lips into a wan smile.

— Yes. — She cleared the hoarseness from her words. — Forgive me, my lord husband, Lord Veles. — She sniffed, brought a hand up to dash her tears, and began to lift herself. — Allow me to get you turned around the right way. — She paused and patted Perun companionably on the chest. — Thank you, darling, for waiting on your questions. I will be answering them now.

He released the quiet around him like a held breath.

One of these days he’d learn how to read her mind.

As the three collected on the edge of the crater, she offered an elbow to each of them.

An elbow was offered to her. The bright one smiled with the graceful bow-like curve of a tern in flight, with the edges of new spring trailing the tips of its wings. Strands of sunlight fanned over summer-lake blue, and the aroma of cool, clean dawn dew rolled over her.

Something settled under her ribs, tugging insistently. Breath drew short in her throat.

No, no, Yesushka, don’t fall for that line. Lord Byelobog relies too much on his looks. Make him work for it. Mokosits’s counsel whispered through her thoughts.

— Yesen.

Alarm flew across the Twisted Aspen. Yesushka!
Breath caught again. She’d committed to following Mokukas’s advice… ! Really!
Mokosits reached out and seized the alarm, settling it quickly. You did nothing wrong, my girl. I was caught by surprise, is all…
Bolstering warmth settled on her shoulder like Sashukas’s large hand. Hang in there, Yesutė. I’ll finish soon, and then if you want me to I can come be big and scary for you.
That wasn’t—no! i mean please — i mean… i don’t knowOh, little dream… Sympathy from Doviluze, floating over as if on shadows billowing like cigarette smoke. It gets better, I promise.

The bright one flinched back, surprise written baldly on his features, his elbow dropping.

— Your manners fail you again, brother.

At the corner, the dark one swelled up from his crouch. He stepped around, feet padding around and dark eyes pinning her from beneath a dark, heavy brow. Close heat followed him, brushing over her skin, leaving behind the lingering scent of damp, dark night and hints of musk mingled with soil. Mischief curled one corner of his mustache.

— Lady Yesen. It is good to finally meet you.

He held out a hand.

Mokukas drifted forth further counsel. He intends to kiss your knuckles, Yesushka.what… what should i do?If you want to let him, it would not be unseemly. Or you could make him wait. Or if you don’t want to let him, there are many things you can do instead.
Doviluze’s snort drifted by unheard. Like telling him you’re not interested. It was a tug, slight, half-teasing, and uninsistent.i don’t know yet. A pause. wait. i want him to wait.Ask him his name, Mokukas advised.
Amusement carried over like a low, dark chuckle. So you’re telling Lady Yesen to play dumb.Coy, Vilka. I’m asking her to play coy.

— We can hardly have met if you haven’t shared your name.

Bright approval and pleased surprise brushed over like a snowy whirlwind. Gracefully said! You are a natural!

A corner of a dark brow twitched up, and amusement curled the mischief further, sparking intrigue in black eyes.

A feeling like the flickering of quickened breath pattered at her ribs; a feeling like the settling of bone seized her throat.

With a flourish the dark one drew his proffered hand back and splayed it over his chest.

— I am the Lord Chernobog.

He swept both his hands wide, bending into a bow.

The bright one weaved more into view, bowing deeper and with a flowery flourish of his hands.

— A-and I am the Lord Byelobog.

Chernobog straightened, looking sidelong at Byelobog. — Yes. We are brothers. — Wryness wrung his voice dry. He brought his hand up, making a show of shielding his mouth from his brother’s view. — I am rather certain he was adopted.

Byelobog straightened next, sliding a glare the dark one’s way. Quickly, he returned his attention, quirked a smile, and held out his hand, palm up. — It is a true privilege, Lady Yesen.

Chernbog narrowed his eyes at the bright one and turned, moving to offer an elbow. — Please don’t let us delay you. Where was it we were supposed to be going?

Realization struck, a strange warmth which felt like delight but did not divert her pounding heart or her catching breath.

they’re… they’re fighting over me.Not quite. Mokukas pointed out. But it will not take much to get them there.
A dry chuckle rasped. Does it ever?
Sashukas’s concern shone through as if a curtain were slowly being pulled back. Are you okay, Yesutė? You seem very confused.this is very confusing.
Triple-headed vigorous agreement met her. And then a shadow swelled, inviting. Did you want to hide it?(A heart, thrashing and fluttering as if attempting to escape with broken wings. Hiding in the dark, closed warmth, to beat itself into broken, exhausted pieces.)
Instead, she grabbed at the sparked fire and held it close.no. i’m tired of hiding and being scared. this is not something i want to be scared of.
Golden sun-warmed hugfeeling enveloped her. Something warm and dark and looming brushed at either side, accepting and watchful.(An idea streaked out, bright and hot and sudden.)doviluzė, can you ask lady mokosh if i can take the lords byelobog and chernobog to her place?
More passed back and forth through the aspen, just as quick.

Before her, the bright one’s fingers only just twitched open, and the dark one’s arm only just crooked.

In-in…

… out…

Yesen reached up to her throat.

Hearth air swallowed them, and thick layers of food-scent filled them. Before them, hooks lined the wall and boot-shelves lined the floor.

With quick finger-twitches, Yesen’s broach eased its teeth and her cloak slid to an arm. She brushed the broach into Byelobog’s outstretched hand, and draped her cloak over Chernobog’s proffered forearm.

— Thank you, my lords. You are most gracious. — She offered her own bow, then let the breeze of her passing brush them as she crossed through the doorway. — There is much to discuss. Lady Mokosh was generous enough to let us borrow her cottage; she will be here shortly with the Lords Perun and Veles. Meanwhile… — She turned back to face them, allowing herself as slight a smile she could bear. — Would you care for some tea?

Sashukas shone his approval. I’m glad you thought to level the field. Just remember: it’s always okay to tell them no.thanks. Yesen sent him her smile.
Another billow of shadow drifted. You should see what other kinds of ridiculous things you can get them to do. It will be hilarious.i should!
Mokukas leaned a thought through the aspen. Now I almost feel bad for them.
Doviluzė’s dark laugh cracked across. Someone has to.

In which Ken and Star-Bringer discuss Netjer politics

KenEvening in Bakersfield, two days before the Netjer council
Ken takes a breath of ice-cold air of Helsinki, and releases it slowly into the warm humid air of Bakersfield. He removes his coat and beats it, sending up a shower of glittering ice crystals, before proceeding inside.
“Good evening, Sanura. I got your message.” He leaves the coat on a peg and boots by the door, and gives her a smile. “How are you?”

Sanura
She glances up from arranging a display she’d noticed was not quite perfect when she arrived and gives a warm but perhaps a little ..weary smile of greeting. "Glad you could make it, I’ve got some of Moe’s table wine for me and a bottle for you as well. " She holds up the more moonshine like drink. “I need to unwind some and it’s been too long since we had a good chat eh?” She gives a faint sort of tilt of her head to the doors and proceeds to open the fanciful door in the shops front room. They enter to a warm dry air not unlike the Bakersfield climate really and a quiet night sky, stars seen through the opening of the temple the dark purple fading out to the dim gray of the either . For the smallness of the place the visual cues make it seem much more endless. She’d already brought some pillows and a blanket and glasses set on the side she flumps down and as she lands her attire shifts from Sanura Chic to Sanura Comfy. Soft Tshirt like material cut into short sleeved night dress of sorts with a cute hood and useful pockets. Sitting cross legged she’d leanover and pat a place on the blanket. “have a rest wanderer” she smiles a little.

Ken
Ken follows her through the door, ducking a bit to avoid some fluttering drapery. “Drowning your sorrows, kettlingur min? Tsk tsk. My bad habits must be rubbing off.” His tone is mostly teasing, but with a clear note of concern for how thoroughly stressed she sounds. Ken settles down (or as settled as Ken ever is) in the spot she’d indiccated.

Sanura
She chuckles a little “Not sorrows thankfully.. I’ve ben sublimely happy for quite a while.. no .. no I’m going to try to quiet the worry that I may lose it soon” she says with the note of joy that had been in her voice fading to so much worry and .. fear.

Ken
Ken leans foreward, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyebrows pull together a little in a worried way and the hot dry breeze settles into a patch of silent stillness. “Well now, that doesn’t sound much better. Is it something you wanted to talk about?”

Sanura
Sanura presses her lips a little and nods but holds out a glass to him after filling it with shine. “after a drink” she murmurs. “and maybe a little about what you’ve been up to?” she suggests with a smile that shows a little less stress than a moment ago.

Ken
Happy to oblidge, Ken accepts the glass and waits until Sanura’s filled one for herself before offering a brief toast: “To a new world. May she be as generous to her guests as you are to yours.”
Once they’ve gotten through the first glass, he begins telling her what he’s been up to. “Well, you see, as near as I can tell the old world is not long for this world, so to speak. It has been cold for a long time and getting colder, and Lisa says… well, anyways, it isn’t a very good place to be, eh?” Ken takes a pause to light himself a cigarette, but makes the smoke go elsewhere so Sanura won’t have to smell it. “Ginger and I have been giving folks a ride out when they want one. That’s why there are so many more people around now, ja?”
Almost as an afterthought, Ken adds, “You know, we did not have people when I was a boy. Even the fancy people in Reykjavik were imported from Denmark.”

Sanura
Sanura smiles and lightly clinks glasses before taking a generous drink. She frowns a little. "Should we.. I.. " she hmms a moment and thinks “Is it.. natural is this just.. the end?” she looks worried but the problem is such a big one she’s not worried in the active way of ‘omg how do we fix it’. “Will Bakersfield make it through?” she questions.

Ken
Ken gives her a quizzical look. “You say that as if natural and ending are two separate things.” He shrugs a little, and pours himself another drink. “But whatever is happening there, it is not happening here. Otherwise it would be no good moving people, eh?”

Sanura
She shakes her head “no I meant the oposite actually.. I mean to say is this the natural end of the world.. or rather of humanities time on the world” she hmms softly “Not at all?” her brows furrow. "I’d hate to be caught unawares if the cooling of the world is a warning.

Ken
He laughs a little at that. “No, no, believe me, this is not a subtle thing. If it were happening here, you would not miss it.”

Sanura
Sanura nods slightly and takes a breath “well .. are most people chosing to come along?” she questions before sampling more of her wine.

Ken
“Yes. Most. It is a choice, but… eh, not much of one.”

Sanura
She gives another nod to that and her brows arch a bit as if to say ‘yeah really’ . She hmms and considers “is the .. realm here big enough.. is everything going smooth with the moving in?”

Ken
Ken scratches his chin and puffs his cig, and finally says, “You know, if I answer that I will have to talk about the nature of ‘big’ and ‘small’ and what it means to move. But yes, it is going smoothly as far as I can tell.” He takes another sip of vodka, then asks, “But not everything is going smoothly, is it?”

Sanura
Sanura nods her understanding and then once more her lips press in that slight grimace. "it is not.. " she has another drink before coninuing. She’d explain the situation with Set.. his desires.. the history of all the interactions.. the danger to Derreck and how at the moment .. she can’t.. help. A sense of resignation that’s heavily tinged with frustration.

Ken
((Just checking, she tells him everything she learned from all the others?))

Sanura
Yeah with a clear warning it’s all to be in the greatest confidence. ]]
(maybe leaving out the rape part though and glossing over Derricks being afraid)

Ken
((does this include what Bastet told her about Isis?))

Sanura
(hmmn yeah as the myths of that are if not common knowledge not something he couldn’t have learned on his own)

Ken
((okay, cool.))
Ken is quiet for a long while after she finishes spinning out the story. Finally he says, “Well now, no wonder you are worried.” He pours another glass and lights another cig, then pours some wine out for Sanura.

Sanura
She nods her head a little “Indeed” she murmurs as she examines the wine and murmurs a polite thanks for the refill. “I’m doing what I can to .. be supportive, try to bolster him where I can.” she shakes her head “It doesn’t feel like enough.. I know they speak logically but my desire to protect him isn’t about logic and it hurts regardless.”

Ken
“I know. Too well.” More words nearly come out before Ken quiets himself and drains his glass. The stormyness to his expression fades, not totally gone but pushed back almost to the horizon. “So they all think something is going to happen soon. But what do you think is going to happen?”

Sanura
Sanura takes note of his expression but.. as the bulk of it is pulled back she allows that to go. She sighs and her brows furrow slightly “It’s very hard to say.. I think that … it would be all to easy to be drawn into the old paterns of the old Gods and ..that I do not wish. I think the political angle .. and trying to stall untill Lord Ra wakes is the safest and most promising course.” She frowns "I can’t even begin to know though if Set is who he once was .. with that same distrustful nature that would breed an ongoing strife and fueding or perhaps he learned. The status of Horus the way he fell and having no true answers make it .. possible that Set was the victor in a deadly encouter. It is no more likely than his story that he found the remains but no less so.. "

Ken
Ken nods. “That is a lot of possibilities. But forget about all of them for now.” He makes a brushing-away motion with one hand. “What do you think will happen? You are afraid. So what are you afraid will come true?”

Sanura
She sighs "the most immediate fear is .. that Derrick will be hurt or.. " she swallows and then takes a breath before voicing “or even killed.” Her fingers tighten around the stem of the glass and she is glad for her mortal like strength as the delicate spire doesn’t crumble. “But beyond that..” and it’s clear that Sanura is no where near beyond that “if Set is allowed to resume his position.. I do not have a good feeling about it .. and it seems many I trust do not either.”

Ken
Another nod. “And if you had not made this promise to keep yourself out of harm’s way, what would you do to keep him safe?”

Sanura
She makes a gesture that save for the glass in hand is graceful parting of her arms as if to say ‘what else’ “I’d be at his side and protect him the best of my ability, regardless of how .. futile it may be”

Ken
Ken lets out a long breath - almost a sigh. He closes his eyes and shakes his head a little. “I am sorry to say this to you, lilla, but I am glad you made that promise and I hope with all my heart that you keep it. But I hope even more that you never have to.”

Sanura
She looks to the side, aware that her want to defend her husband is.. mostly selfish. Still unable to deny it. “Even though I admit my drive to be there at his side is mostly .. emotional.. it’s also. I am sure is the better man for the job.. at least as far as keeping order and the security and continued safety till Ra is returned. Set may be a more powerful warrior but his skill thankfully is not the most needed one for our people at the moment” she gives a mirthless laugh "oh no more than I.. "

Ken
“Derrick may be the better man for the job. How much is that worth to you? To him?” He leans back against an alabaster column, casual ease of posture in sharp contrast to the white-hot tension in his voice.

Sanura
Her brow furrows slightly. "To me .. it is very important but to be honest vies for higher place with simply not letting him be harmed.. " she looks down and her brow furrows some “I think.. if Derrick was certain Set was the better man then he’d step down, in whatever way possible. I also think that .. if he wished to end Derricks life simply to ensure his reign, then it’d be clear he wasn’t that person and so Derrick if attacked, will fight.. with his all, despite the inequity in power.”

Ken
Ken sets his glass down with a soft clunk and pulls his harmonica out of his pocket. A few notes softly escape, although he doesn’t raise the instrument to his mouth. “Is there anything Set could do at this point that would convince you he was… ah, well. That is not the question, is it?” Ken smiles a wry smile. “The real question is: does what Derrick thinks matter? Or will they fight for him whether he wants it or not?”

Sanura
She hmms softly as she considers that. “I.. well.. currently .. he is the highest autority, when Lord Ra awakes that changes of course.. and despite that Lady Isis is incredibly influentual. I think a firm ‘request’ to stand down though would work for most. To be honest though.. people surprise me constantly so.. Derrick is probably the better one to ask .. he’s had far more time within that enviroment..”

Ken
Ken considers deeply, lost in thought for the span of an entire song. When it’s over, he continues looking out across the empty not-sky beyond. “Who would you go to about this if I were not here, kettlingur min?” The words are hollow, like bells.

Sanura
She hmms a little and ponders a bit. “well.. I’m not sure really.. Aida perhaps but she’s made it clear she doesn’t want to get involved, and who can blame her it’s a mess”

Ken
“You need to find someone you can count on, you know. Ask Aida… find out if she will. If she won’t, find someone else. Dovile is good at listening, perhaps you could talk to her.”

Sanura
Sanura tilts her head to one side. “Do you not.. wish my confidences or.. are you saying you plan on … departing more perminantly?” she frowns slightly. “I mean there are others I can go to for many things, Hathor for one.. Aida.. Lisa.. for anything aside from this I’d turn to Derreck but this.. weighs on him too heavily as is.”

Ken
“I care about you quite a lot, Sanura. And Derrick as well.” He keeps watching the horizon, as if willing some solution to the whole problem would burst through like a sunrise. “I can’t watch the people I care about be dragged into a war without throwing myself in along them. If it comes to a war, I will not be here to watch it happen.”

Sanura
Sanura tilts her head to one side. "I can understand that.. " she pauses “I don’t think though that it will be a war.. should it come to .. violence.. it will likely be the two of them .. ‘mano a mano’ as they used to say. Should it break out into .. other conflict .. I should be quite shocked. We are too few to give in to such and Egyptians are I think.. pragmatic especially about their own survival. No if it even does come to violence it would only be Derrick and Set.. but that is our worst outcome and not certain by any means. It’s just as likely to be a political conflict. If that is the case .. Derrick may lose but he will live and we will find a solution that works for him as far as what to do moving on.”

Ken
Ken breaks away from the horizon to look at Sanura. He clears his throat. “Ah. Well….” a pause, and then, “You said you will be staying with Lisa for the time being?”

Sanura
“Mostly, though I try to be with him when I can.. when he’s not doing the sun thing, or .. politics.” she wrinkles her nose.

Ken
“He is going to visit you there, yes? You will not be going to visit him there?”

Sanura
[that I don’t know we didn’t get into that part much]

Ken
((Fair enough. It’s pretty clear Ken has Serious Concerns about the idea of Sanura existing in Netjerplace right now though))

Sanura
[yeah though, what stops Set from coming to get her anywhere… aside from when she’s litterally at lisa’s .. maybe she’s ment to stay there all the time and I misunderstood? but .. I don’t think that’s acceptable.. also fucking with her before the meeting even happens would not be.. smart? I’ll have to ask Meg about it]

Ken
Okay, ooc real talk time:
What stops set from coming for her is he’d be picking a war with another whole pantheon. He can’t afford to get the Found righteously angry.

Sanura
I mean not.. coming at her directly and out in the open but say he wanted to kidnap her? I don’t know that he can’t be sneaky like that or have an ally that is

Ken
True. But then what?
The only point to kidnapping her is hostage value, but if he reveals he has her… boom. In come the found.

Sanura
hmmn would Ken mention that to Sanura?

Ken
Did she express concern or confusion over how staying with Lisa would help?
If so, then yes.

Sanura
because I didn’t consider it, and the ‘show down’ as it were is in house for the egyptians as far as I know. We came to Lisa and Dovile knows but Dovile cannot do anything and I think Lisa.. sort of.. cannot in a way.. as she’s a.. knower and observer not .. one that will interfeir?

Ken
Right. And I don’t think anyone else wants to get involved in another pantheon’s internal politics. But if Sanura is clearly defining herself as part of the Found, then doing anything to her means it’s no longer an internal conflict.
Like how you wouldn’t mess with another country’s civil war, but if they start kidnapping other people’s citizens then the whole world gets pissed.

Sanura
hmm I wanna talk to Meg and you a little about this to get it straight where Sanura is gonna be and stuff

Ken
For sure.
I can give you a quick ooc sum-up of what Ken thinks, if you want? Sanura can probably read him well enough to pick up on it.

Sanura
okie cool

Ken
Okay!
Ken thinks this will either end quickly and peacefully by Derrick agreeing to let Set be in charge (although who knows, maybe Derrick will be able to negotiate some concessions in the process), or that it’s going to be a nasty bloody war. He doesn’t think a noble mano-a-mano duel is likely, given what everyone’s been telling Sanura about Set and what little he knows of some of the others. Sekhmet, for example, does not seem like the type to patiently obey the results of a duel.
He does think that Sanura staying with Lisa would protect her, because it would be really really stupid to pick a fight with her family when you’re already in the middle of a fight.
He also isn’t sure it matters whether Derrick agrees to back down or not, because a lot of people seem to be less on Derrick’s side and more just not on Set’s side. Do they really care what Derrick wants? If they can eliminate Set, then Derrick would just be stuck with the job anyways.

Sanura
yeaaah that last bit is worrisome
Need ta talk with the Moogs hopefully before Fridee

In which Ken brings Ginger into the fold

MorevukaSeptember, 2030Danmairge
The sun has set. The last of the fire just finished melting off of the horizon. The garden of Denmark is a plethoria of greens, but most of the blooms are still sleeping, even with the mild winter.
Inside, Moe is at work, and the hum and smells of a busy kitchen are wafting through the house.
The kitchen is in country style, heavy iron pots on the sides, vases full of flowers on the long, pale wood island counters. The curtains are light blue and white, and the river is visible under the laterns glistering to life. Family pictures (Moe’s memories) are hung, almost like scattered dropplets from the wing of a water bird. Moe must be feeling cozy today.
Dovile eases out of the shadows behind the fire-tools on the mantle. “Good evening.” She says to Moe. A smile rides her voice. A wolf eases out behind her. Its head, graced with eyes of a dark, wet brown and teeth that look like old bone, comes up to Dovile’s chest. It flops down next to the fire, and its edges seem to melt into the shadows around it.
A moment later the wolf opens its mouth, just. A whisper slides out between its teeth, too quite for any ears but Morevuka’s.

Ken
Presently Ken steps out from under the pantry shelves, Ginger trailing just behind him. They’re both a bit (by Ken’s standards, so… completely) filthy, bearing clear marks of having been somewhere extremely blustery and full of brambles. “Good evening, Maureen! And Dovile.” Ken removes coat and boots, placing them in the designated area for outside mucky things.

ST
At Dovile’s arrival, Moe quickly motions, drawing the water that had been washing her hands to a palm before shutting her fingers gently over it, leaving her hands completely dry. A grin sparks, growing rapidly over her and she moves over to Dovile, her arms beginning to spread for a hug. “You’re late,” Moe teases. “Feeling fashionable today?”
As Ginger follows Ken, she grabs a handful of peanuts (although how she manages this without opening the jar is a mystery). “Hi Ms… uh… Swan Princess! Hi Ms… Shadowface!” she greets through her mouthful. Then her eyes go wide as they settle on the wolf. She looks again to Dovile. “Can I pet your puppy?”
Rotten Sore steps forward wordlessly, offering damp towels to Ken and Ginger.

Star-Bringer
Sanura meanwhile is a little late as she’s met Derrick at the setting of the sun with an outfit she picked out -or- whatever he would normally don, it’s up to him. She’d give both over to Isis as that’s her chosen duty and she doesn’t want to step on toes at all. So once Derrick has a chance to change and take a few breaths they should be on their way.

Ken
Ken clears his throat softly as a gentle reminder to Ginger that people have names. He takes the towel offered by Rotten Sore with a smile and starts scrubbing his hands off. “Thank you. Where do dirty towels go?”

Morevuka
Dovile leans into Moe’s hug, returning it with one of her own. At Moe’s question her mouth opens, but it takes a moment for her answer to arrive, as if her voice is coming from a long way away. “Ja, ja. Can’t you tell? Look at my clothing.” (She’s wearing the same things she always wears, dusty loose pants of uncertain style, a long sleeve shirt, her old coat.)
With Ken and Ginger’s arrival, Dovile finishes her hug and pulls away. She nods greeting to Ken. Then she looks at Ginger. “No.” Her voice seems to have caught up with her. After a moment’s consideration, given that this is Ken’s granddaughter and all, Dovile adds. “It is not friendly.” She adds, as if to soften the blow. The shadows of the wolf defuse further into the hearth.

ST
It’s not long before the pilotless barque glides from the river beside Meten-Khai-Ra to Kern River, making its way upstream towards the dock with a properly glamorous Sanura and Derrick in tow.
Moe gives Dovile a good, firm, enveloping squeeze. “It’s good to see you.” Once the hug is finished, Moe turns to the new arrivals.
Ginger raises a defensive shoulder at Ken’s reminder. “Um. Sorry for making up names for you guys. I was told your last names but then I realized I forgot them. I’m not really good with names.”
“No offense taken. I liked my made up name, and furthermore appreciate the effort made to come up with it.” Moe smiles encouragingly. “But you can call me Moe if you like.” She draws herself up and spreads her arms out with a flourish, drawing a mantle of formality around her that’s too dramatic to be serious. “Welcome to my home, Ms. Ginger Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorffvoralternwarengewissenhaftschafer
swesenchafewarenwholgepflegeundsorgfaltigkeitbeschutzen
vonangereifenduchihrraubgiriigfeindewelchevorralternz
wolftausendjahresvorandieerscheinenbanderersteerdeemmeshedrraum
schiffgebrauchlichtalsseinursprungvonkraftgestartseinlangefahrthin
zwischensternartigraumaufdersuchenachdiesternwelshegehabtbewohnbar
planetenkreisedrehensichundwohinderneurassevanverstandigmensh
lichkeittkonntevortpflanzenundsicherfreunanlebenslamdlichfreudeundruhemit
nichteinfurchtvorangreifenvonandererintlligentgeschopfsvonhinzwischenster
nartigraum.” She looks over to Ken. “And Ken.”
During this (considerable) time, Rotten Sore silently motions to take the dirty towel, offering Ken another clean one, and eventually a third.
For a moment, Ginger is dumbstruck at Moe’s mastery of her full name. Then she says, “Okay. The only way you could be any cooler is if you can make pierogies.”
“I already did.” Moe winks.
“Wait… really?”
It’s then that Tilvy gambols through the pantry and skids to a halt near Ken (leaving four trails of mud behind her) and begins to wind up for a good shake.

Morevuka
The wolf sinks deeper into the shadows, as if every breath made it more and more a part of the room. Dovile, realesed from her hug, sits down next to it, waiting for Moe to finish her recitation.
The wolf raises it’s muzzle to whisper in her ear. With its edges in scraps, she is almost hidden under it.

Ken
Ken throws a preventative towel over Tilvy, so as to not get mud and monster poop all over the dishes. After the… sixth? Seventh? towel, he’s clean enough to exist in Moe’s kitchen so he proceeds to snag a cigarrette from the dish on the tabel. “Moe is the best cook this side of Kern River, you know.” He tells Ginger. “Also the coolest.”

Morevuka
Dovile grunts at Ken and holds out her hand for a cigarette.

Star-Bringer
Sanura waits for Derrick to step down and offer a hand. Heels aside it’s a perfectly not PDA excuse to touch his hand, nevermind her near perfect balance. She’s all smiles as she looks forward to these family gatherings almost as much as Moe. “I’d wager the best dancer as well but that’s little to do with cooking I suppose.” Sanura adds in as she joins those assmebled. “Good Evening everyone”

Ken
Ken aquiesces to Dovile’s eloquent request.

Morevuka
Dovile takes it, nodding good evening to Derrick and Sanura as they arrive. She reaches into her pocket for a spark, and then takes a long drag on her cigarette.

ST
Unstopped, Tilvy gives a vigorous shake. It’s not long before the towel is flung. Seemingly unconcerned, Moe flicks a hand and the water that had been washing it before spreads about the room, catching the flung dirt. Soon it’s sluggish and heavy with mud. With another flick, the water flies out into the flower patch just below the window.
“Did you have cool people in Grimsey?” Ginger prompts.
Rotten Sore offers Moe a final damp towel before carting out his handful of dirty ones. Moe nods her thanks and drops the towel on the floor, wiping the streaks of dirt up with a skillful toe. She pauses in her cleaning as Sanura and Derrick arrive and takes a couple steps toward them. “Well! We’ve got quite a fashionable group today!” She flourishes a bow. “Welcome, Your Majesties Humperdinck and Buttercup.” Of course, not long after she begins to unfurl for hugs, smiling bright and broad.

Ken
He shakes his head and takes on the patient tones of a much-tried schoolmaster.“Ah, Ginger, of course we did not have cool people in Grimsey. In Reykjavik, yes, but only because they imported them special from Denmark. In Grimsey we only had cold people.”
Ken tilts the chandelier down a bit so he can light his cig off one of the candles. As Sanura and Derrick come in he turns to greet them with open arms. “Ah, you made it! Good evening!”

Star-Bringer
Sanura laughs a little at that and bows as well “Our highest regards to the mistress of the house” She gives Moe a squeeze and mouths Wesley to Derrick with a little grin. She releases Moe to move about to hug anyone else who wants one. Any dirt or mud seeming to melt away from her the moment she steps back. She reaches over to Tylvy and holds her hand out palm up for inspection before offering scritches.

ST
Warm hugs are traded, and Tilvy the monster-dog happily submits to scritches after a brief sniff and a quick look Ken’s and Ginger’s way.
“Did you know we’re here at the source?” Derrick adds to Ken’s story, giving a pointed look Ginger’s way. “‘Danmairge,’ after all, means Denmark.”
Moe moves off to wipe up the floor and giving a little stir of a soup here and a flip of an egg there. “Mmm. Flattery, Derrick,” she points out.
“Bribery,” Derrick corrects gently.
Moe grins, slyly narrowing her eyes. “Gone dirty, have we? All the… politics rubbing off on you?”
He does a bit of a double-take, raising an eyebrow.
She grins. “No, that wasn’t innuendo. Believe it or not.” For good measure she holds her finger up, and then makes a point of putting it away prior to shaking.

Star-Bringer
Sanura doesn’t get how that could be innuendo and is a little dissapointed at missing the joke but ah well. She’s got a lovely doggy to pet and she looks to Ginger. “How’ve you been young miss?” she asks with a warm smile.

Morevuka
Dovile eases into the warmth of the hearth. The shadows grow around her, and all that remains of the great wolf is a suggestion of its maw in the shadow that covers her shoulder, and the almost-silent whisper with its hint of grating metal. She takes a long draw on her ciggarette, eyes nearly closed, enjoying the presence of family.

Ken
Ken takes a deep lungful of smoke and lets it out slowly. “No innuendo?” he asks, eyebrows raised in an air of shock. He shakes his head mournfully and taps his cigarrette against his chest. “Ah, Maureen, and I thought I could count on you.”

ST
“Alright, I guess.” Ginger looks down at the ground. “I’m still… grounded. But… I’m learning a lot. About superpowers and… manners. And stuff. And I get to go places, which is cool.”
Moe tilts her head, chastened, at the same time flicking the towel over the sink still with a single toe. “Alas. There are a great deal of things I would allow you to do on me, but counting is no longer one of them.” She quirks to corner of her brow as if to punctuate.
Not far… a great beat of buffeted sky, the subtle brushing of wind through feathers, and the light clop of hooves. Not long after, two feet touch the ground, and then two more. This is quickly followed by a, “Go raibh maith agat, Broken Neck!” The voice is familiar by its inflection and tone and brightness, but it’s deepened considerably (and only recently too!)
“You’re quite welcome,” comes the quiet, hissed response. “Dia dhuit, Hole In Skull.”
“Dia dhuit,” is the raspy answer from another source.

Ken
Assuming his standard seat on the windowsill, Ken gives Moe a flash of a grin. “Ja, just as well, I cannot count anyways you know.”

Star-Bringer
Sanura chuckles a little “Well I hope you’re learning darling, I’ve got hope you’ll do great things with these gifts” she nods and then perks up “Oh I got that one!” cough er nm look on her face. She listens to the exchange outside and awaits to greet the new arrivals.

Morevuka
Dovile blows out smoke.

Ken
At Sanura’s latest comment, Ken remarks, “They are not gifts, Sanura min. A gift is something one is given.” His tone is mild, but firm. He takes another drag of smoke, and listens to something moving in the river.

Star-Bringer
Sanura winges a little but doesn’t respond.

ST
Ginger falls silent, turning her gaze to the side. Moe has the grace not to flinch, but does renew her attention on the cooking food. Even Derrick is a bit at a loss, eyes flicking briefly between Ginger and Ken.

Morevuka
Dovile snorts her laughter. “Dane, how come you can’t do this on command? It is never this quiet.”

Star-Bringer
Sanura reaches over and gives Gingers shoulder a little squeeze, just trying to be.. reassuring. She meanwhile makes mental note of all the mortals who stole power from gods trying to recall how they turned out more or less.

Ken
Ken snorts good-naturedly. “And when do I ever do anything on command, eh?”

Morevuka
Dovile thinks a moment, listening to iron whispers, and then breathes out more smoke. “Probably if I shouted ‘duck’, ja?”

Ken
He rubs one hand over his chin and hums in thought. “Yes, probably. But only because I like ducks. If you shouted ‘chicken’ I would not do anything at all.”

Star-Bringer
Sanura chuckles at the exchange beteween them and then frowns a little as her mental search comes up with little that is of help ore reassurance. Still with Ken guiding her it will be fine most surely.

ST
Across the hall, the door opens.
“Hi Moe!” calls Galen, his voice drawing closer.
With a flourish, Moe finishes up what she’s doing, just in time for Galen to step into the room. She moves to enfold him, but finds she has to lean up to do it. “Stop that,” she chides him. “This whole growing taller thing is bumming me out.”
He grins over her shoulder. “Well, I’d be happy to do that for you, but you’d have to stop feeding me.”
“Well.” She heaves an exaggeratedly resigned sigh. “That’s a dealbreaker.”
Another figure swells in the doorway, waiting.
Ginger quickly brightens. “LEANNE!” she cries. Leanne peeks in, a smile flickering over her features. In short order Ginger flings herself at Leanne, and they dance around a little together, hugging each other tightly. Tilvy, excited at the commotion, bolts and hops around them, tail a-wag, letting out little breathy ruffs. (It’s playtime now right!?)

Morevuka
Dovile pulls herself back up, the shadows receding, and waits for her Galen-hug-turn.

Star-Bringer
Sanura is surprised to see Leanne so exhuberant, pleasantly so. She marvles at the size of Galen and shakes her head. “oh dear, where are all the little tykes going” she says mournfully.

Ken
“It is alright.”Ken tells Moe and Galen, holding a hand out as he elaborates. “You can give his food to me. It is a hardship, but I am good at bearing hardship.”

ST
“Judging by how many baby clothes you’ve made lately, not far,” Derrick teases, offering Sanura a smile and a playful nudge.
“Didja find any more skulls?” Ginger asks of Leanne after they pull away.
“Aye. Well. Kind of. Jaw bone of a goat, I t’ink it is,” Leanne replies.
“Ooooh.” Ginger perks, struck by sudden inspiration. “You know what you should do? You should write your poems all over your skull collection.”
Leanne stares at Ginger a moment. “Shite. You’re brilliant.”
Moe makes a thoughtful noise in her throat at Ken’s suggestion. “Well now, if that’s a sacrifice you’re—”
With that, Galen lifts Moe off the ground, to bring her more on a level with him. “Better?”
Moe laughs and pulls away. “Someone comes from the Sofie school of hugging!” She ruffles his hair. “Okay, okay, I get it. We can make this work out. Lemme down so I can greet my next guest.”
He complies, and begins to move to Dovile, pleasantly crooked grin blooming over him.

Star-Bringer
Sanura makes a bit of a pout “but they’re all being sent far away” She laughs a little at the familial exchanges and the comment about Sophies School of hugging is the best. She looks to Derrick and heaves a sigh “If Dovile doesn’t start having babies I might have to” teasing so much.

Morevuka
“Do it.” Dovile says, from over Galen’s shoulder. “I will tell my mother they are surrogate. She will be so happy I will never have to do her dishes again.”

ST
Moe embraces Leanne as with the rest, with Ginger still happily chatting away. When Moe pulls away to return to cooking, Leanne moves over and takes a cigarette from the tray and lights it off one of the many candles around the kitchen.
“You know, this is one of the things I look forward to the most at these dinners.” Galen says to Dovile over her shoulder. “Your pack is awesome but I miss your face after a while.” After he pulls away, he asks, “Is the rest of the company going to be able to make it?” It’s clear he’s referring to Yesen, Sasha, and Mokosits.
Derrick looks Sanura over a bit and then says, “I suppose. I’ll begin budgeting for the college fund.” He looks to Dovile. “Under this pretense, how much can we talk your mother into contributing?”
“Ooooh. You’ve really gone dirty!” comments Moe with a half-grin. “I like it.”

Morevuka
Dovile lets the shadows crawl back onto her shoulder when Galen is finished. “Sasha, maybe if we go until four or five. Yesen will come around.” When is left vauge. “She says she is bringing Mokosits with her.”
When she’s done, she looks to Derrick, purses her lips in thought and then says, “My brother owns a palace made of gold. I think my mother will be feeling generious.”

Star-Bringer
Sanura blinks and then gives a laugh to that. “nice” she murmurs before moving to Derrick to straighten his vest a little and then going to offer Moe a hand in the cooking. A stylish apron magically appearing.

Ken
Ken reaches down to the counter to swipe a mug and pours himself a cup of coffee. Then he takes another pull of smoke. “Generous, you say? So she will contribute onions and potatoes?”

Morevuka
Dovile turns back to Galen. “Also, you can visit, ja? You don’t have to wait for me.” She works very hard to keep her mother’s tone out of her voice.

ST
Moe smoothly hands Sanura a wooden spoon, and then turns to pull a baking sheet out of the oven. Bare-handed. “I feel like with Lady Mother Mokosh there would be a minimum child quantity. After all, having one implies only a certain baseline level of commitment.”
Derrick makes a thoughtful noise in his throat. “Hm. How much… commitment are we talking here?” he asks of Dovile.
Leanne blows a couple smoke rings. Ginger quickly manifests some more peanuts, pops one in her mouth, and spits one through both on the first try. She then cheers, thrusting her fists up in victory.
Galen rubs the back of his neck a little, chastened. “Yeah. I just… I wanna respect Yesen’s privacy, ‘cause she values it so much. I mean, it’s her treehouse too. I just… am kinda at a loss at how to do that and still…” he makes a gesture vaguely resembling something of what he’s trying to get across. “How do I… knock, I guess?”

Star-Bringer
Sanura makes herself useful and tilts her head a little bit listening to Dovile and Derricks conversation only a little more intently than the others around them. She smiles as she thinks Galen is such a sweet thoughtful boy. Ginger’s victory gets a little chuckle of it’s own as she just soaks up the feeling of family.

Morevuka
Dovile shrugs. “Ask a shadow. I will make sure she hears you.” Although that’s an overcomplication of the actual process. Another smile leaks out of the side of her mouth. “You are so sweet. Don’t be too chastened.” She turns to Derrick again. “Well… Morena has one.” A pause as she counts. “But the rest of us are behind. So I think at least five.”

ST
A bit of a bashful smile pushes out at a corner and Galen drops his hand. “Thanks.”
Derrick nods as if this were reasonable. “Well. Ultimately I’m not the one who has to go through labor five times. Sweetheart?” He looks Sanura’s way, his expression and tone mild.

Star-Bringer
Sanura smiles “Oooh I’m sure I can find a way for us to share that responcibility, I’m very inventive… I was thinking two to start though” her tone a little more serious.

ST
“To start,” Moe emphasizes with a lift of her brows, pointing a spatula Derrick’s way.
Seeing that Sanura was ready to begin acknowledging her desire for children directly, Derrick’s mild expression begins to favor a slightly more intent one. “Are you feeling confident you’ve found the balance you’ve been looking for, then?”

Star-Bringer
She sighs and shakes her head a little “not quite yet but.. it’s a work in progress and I’m sure it will happen.. we’ve got time after all” She smiles a little bit “besides I do want a little more ‘us’ time first, so it’s ok if it doesn’t happen right away” She nods as she’s just made perfect sense.

ST
Derrick nods, accepting this reasoning. “As you wish.”
Galen and Moe trade a look. That’s another one for the running tally.
The cooking, smoking, and chatting continues. More family begins filtering in, little by little, suffusing Danmairge with a cozy, hearthlike warmth and light.

Star-Bringer
Sanura is more than happy this evening and does her best to shine or dim where ever needed to spread that comfort and joy around.

Baldur and Odin’s Return

Baldur and Odin came to Bakersfield, escorted by Skadi. The Aesir held a great feast celebreating their safe return. Frigg immediately went out to renew the oaths that all things in the world had made to never harm Baldur.

Ruben Confronts the Mother of the Lost

One day, during a family dinner, Ruben grew increasingly irritable and agitated. Then, unable to stand it anymore, he sought the Mother of the Lost with a, “We need to talk.” They left the dinner early. Ruben returned a few days later; and the Mother of the Lost proceeded to go to each and every one of her children (and Morevuka) to ask them if they would allow her to “tie a tether” to them. They agreed, and the Mother of the Lost increasingly became more lucid and present with each “tether” tied.

MaMa’s Rise and Fall

MaMa, in collusion with Isaiah Tooley, the bandit king (who attacked the farmlands and villages outside the wall thus splitting Captain Maria Jiminez’s forces), attempted a coup on Bakersfield town hall. MaMa managed to successfully overcome Captain Maria, who called to Ken for help. He appeared right away, just in time for Captain Maria to pass out from her wounds. Morevuka immediately offered her healing services; and once healed Captain Maria updated Ken on what was happening and asked him to get the governer to safety.

Meanwhile, Lady Baker had sent word to Senbast, Galen, and Ruben. They all gathered together in short order, quickly laid out a plan, and started forth on solving the problem. Senbast wove a spell of protection and concealment on town hall, Ruben flew Hector straight to MaMa, and Galen flew Phobos to Isaiah Tooley. Morevuka updated Ken on all these events.

Ken found the governer well protected and none the wiser. He quickly informed her what was going on and instructed her not to leave the building until he says it’s okay. She quickly sent word out to the rest of her staff to do the same. He went back to Captain Maria to keep apprised of the situation.

It wasn’t long before Ruben, covered in blood, returned with MaMa’s head and presented it to the captain. Captain Maria, rather shaken, snapped, “You know there’s such a thing as due process.” Ruben then said, “So put me on trial, then.” And the Captain said she would seriously consider it.

Galen, on the other hand, sat down and talked with Isaiah Tooley and his followers. They threw down their weapons and returned some hours later, led by Galen, intent on redeeming themselves through community service.

Later, they were given medals for their service to Bakersfield. Ruben was not put on trial.

Ken Corners Ginger

With Ken back in town, it wasn’t long before he caught wind of Ginger’s new superpowers. He tried the indirect approach, asking her if anything unusual happened in the last year or so. Ginger insisted that everything was normal. Then he attempted another tack: getting an update on her life and the babysitting gig. She began speaking about field trips, one in particular to the Razorbacks. Ken pointed out that the Razorbacks are a long way away… Ginger insisted she knew a shortcut. Finally, Ken said, “I don’t know what you’ve been up to, and you don’t have to tell me about it. But you shouldn’t lie to me.” At this, Ginger wilted and confessed everything. Ken thanked her for telling the truth and dismissed himself briefly.

He proceeded from there to Morevuka and shouted and cussed and stomped around. Morevuka served him tea and a muffin. He left them untouched.

That taken care of, he went to the Mother of the Lost to ask for advice on disciplining Ginger. He stated he was still too angry to think of an appropriate consequence — but he knew that he was never going to let her out of his sight again. The Mother of the Lost expressed that was enough of a consequence for Ginger.

Finally, Ken returned to Ginger and asked her why she stole his powers. She mentioned how she really wanted them for a long time, because all the cool people who have them get to go places and do things. Eventually it surfaced that this was partly about feeling powerless when Gianna was wounded. Ken explained to Ginger the nature of power and responsibility, and then told her that he’s going to be supervising her. If she wants to rebuild trust, she’ll have to stay with him and do what he says. Ginger reluctantly agreed.

How Elsewhere Came to Be

The dark earth beckoned Morevuka away to the World, to a secluded, thick, shady forest that was utterly silent and still as if it were frozen in time. The earth’s whispers bid her stand beneath the branches of an aspen. And nothing else.

Meanwhile, Ken and Ginger were mucking about Bakersfield when Ken sensed a new, strange pathway. It was not insistent, but it was very odd, a powerful impression that was at once familiar and entirely foreign. There was a distinct sense of wrongness about it, but Ken couldn’t put his finger on it.

The first thing Ken did was go to the Mother of the Lost to ask her if she knew anything about it. When he described what he was feeling (“it’s trying to be there but not supposed to be there, or it’s trying to be something it isn’t”), the Mother of the Lost said, “That’s now?”
Ken: “Not to get your off track here, but it might work better if you told me things in the order they happened.”

And then the Mother of the Lost told him (and Ginger!) how Elsewhere came to be.

“Though She-Who-Hungers is always hungry, every new moon evening the emptiness within her seems to grow bigger, more gaping, more insistent. Though it is difficult to ignore, She-Who-Hungers need only wait until dawn before the hunger begins to wane.

One evening, however, it was too much to ignore. She-Who-Hungers looked upon Bakersfield and the people there and knew she would soon be lost to her hunger. In desperation, she shaped a new Bakersfield, one which looked the same but was utterly emptied of people, appearing as if it had been abandoned, in the hopes that she would wander lost within it, guided by neither lantern light nor moon nor stars, until dawn came.

This is Elsewhere.

It was not enough.

She-Who-Hungers, though unable to leave, saw that there was nothing around to eat and cast the emptiness out like a net and drew it to herself. Young children felt this call most keenly and journeyed to and through the many doors that led to Elsewhere, and wandered the empty streets at the bidding of their searching hunger.

Among these children were Summer and Leliana. They recognized the dark, oily shadows around them and knew that something was amiss. So Summer called to her fellows with a voice like young spring thunder, breaking them of their trance, and Leliana lit the way with hair of fire to guide them to her. Together they traversed Bakersfield, seeking the lost children. When they had found them all, Leliana called upon her peerless memory to return to the door that had taken them there in the first place.

But the shadows were growing thicker. They had been found, and were being pursued.

Meanwhile, the waters spoke to Galen of something deeply wrong. He sought his brothers, and the three of them conferred about what to do. Ruben knew that they should seek the Drowned King, but knew not why. Galen knew that there was something strange afoot with She-Who-Hungers, but knew not what. And Senbast was drawn somewhere, but knew not exactly where. So the three of them started by seeking an audience with the Drowned King in the Castle Under the Sea. Indeed, when they told him of their presentiments, he heeded them — it was a new moon evening and his wife had been out of the castle for some time. He strapped on his boots of soil and followed the brothers to Bakersfield, where Senbast led them to the door.

There the lost children were gathered. Summer and Leliana stepped through not long after, and, seeing their brothers, told them what had happened. The Drowned King stepped boldly forth into Elsewhere and lured She-Who-Hungers back to the Castle Under the Sea with his blood, where he kept her until dawn when she returned to herself.”

So Ken and Ginger awaited dawn before approaching She-Who-Hungers, and he offered to make it harder for hapless wanderers to simply wander into Elsewhere. He also offered to close the doors utterly to Elsewhere to She-Who-Hungers. She-Who-Hungers, though uneasy about the thought of Elsewhere, declined the offer — after all, if others were safe, it would be a good place for her to go when she was overcome by hunger. So, together Ken and Ginger sought all the doors to Elsewhere in Bakersfield and made it so that there would be a greater chance the door would send them somewhere else. For extra assurance, Ken also placed “door chimes” through Elsewhere, in case someone did somehow make their way into it.

Upon Morevuka’s return, she got the full report and sent shadow wolves into Elsewhere. And then she grew some tea and gave it to Svantovit. He was already ready with a fresh muffin for her.

When Star-Bringer learned of these occurrences, she first ensured that everyone had made it out safe and then gave her liquid moonlight to She-Who-Hungers, who was grateful. Then Star-Bringer created a children’s prayer to help them in a time of need to safety with the aid of a star.

Ginger’s Caught Red-Handed

Although with Ken’s guiding hand Ginger was becoming more thoughtful and responsible — and indeed, a good role model for Fox, Beaver Kit, and Trout Boy — it was clear that when she was with the three of them her growing sense of responsibility faded in favor of the fun pranks that they pulled together. Ken talked to Ginger about responsible pranking: who to choose to prank, how to keep the pranking harmless, and how to properly own up to the consequences.

It wasn’t long after that when Thor approached Ken with Ginger in tow. Thor was amused, but it was clear that Ginger had been caught making mischief. Ken told Ginger that in these cases he would ask the pranked party what was a fair consequence and she would have to do that. As a result, Ginger scrubbed the floors of the Aesir festhall every morning and every night for a week.

This clearly didn’t discourage Ginger for long, however — later, Sekhmet brought her to Ken, clearly fuming mad. It turned out that Ginger and Coyote’s triplets had gotten her drunk and shaved her tail while she was sleeping. True to form, Ken asked her what consequence she thought appropriate. Sekhmet stated that execution was most appropriate. Ken negotiated her down from that, and eventually Sekhmet was willing to settle for the severing of the hand which did the deed. Ken asked Ginger if she thought that was fair. She said no. He asked her if she had any better ideas. She was at a complete loss, unused to punishing herself. So Ken agreed to Sekhmet’s demands, provided he would be the one to chop Ginger’s hand off. In a panic, Ginger was ready to run — but Ken opened a pathway from her mind to his and told her that it was going to hurt but promised it would not be permanent. Ginger decided to trust Ken and presented him with her left hand, which he promptly severed with a clean cut from his ax.

Satisfied, Sekhmet returned to Meten-Khai-Ra with her trophy, and Ken immediately brought Ginger to Angel, who had already been warned by Morevuka to set down her book and wine. While Angel was regrowing Ginger’s hand, they discussed exactly what was going on, and what the parts were in Ginger’s stump. They also talked about the music of the world. Ginger was calmed down considerably after this, but noticeably subdued for the next few days.

Ken approached her later and they discussed what had happened. He wanted to make it clear that he did this not because he was being mean but because he was afraid of what would happen to Ginger if he had let Sekhmet chop her hand off. Ginger said that she knew. He asked how she was doing. Ginger said that she was doing okay, but that she would never go to Meten-Khai-Ra ever again. She’d also been thinking a lot about how much pain Gianna must’ve been in when she was stabbed, and she didn’t even get to get healed real quick.

From then on, whenever Ginger visited Gianna, she was much more helpful.

Later, Star-Bringer was updated on Ginger’s doings at a family dinner. She admonished Ginger about pulling pranks on deities she knew nothing about, especially when there were different values at play. Though she was uncomfortable with the way Ken handled things, she couldn’t think of anything better. So in the hopes that Ginger would choose her targets with a more discerning eye, she gave Ginger a book about the gods.

And then there was the sound of blazing fire, and a loud explosion. A crater was blown where Mama’s Shoe, with Angela in the middle, dazed and thoughtful, surrounded by the hurt and the dead.

From there, Angela — Fury — went to Danmairge. She began to call out to the Swan Maiden, but the Swan Maiden had already sensed that she’d had a guest and arrived just in time to greet her. When she saw it was Fury, however, she pulled up short. The two of them stared at each other for a while. And then:

“So… are you… are you here to stay?”

“Yeah. Yeah I am.”

And then the Swan Maiden flying tackle hugged Fury with a vengeance. Morevuka sent a shadow wolf to Fury to ask who she wanted to know she was back. Fury responded with, “I guess everyone.” This was done in short order — even Sanura was broken from her star communion, but Ken and Ginger were out of reach at the time. The Swan Maiden shortly began cooking.

That done, Morevuka popped over to Danmairge and offered Fury a cigarette. Fury, who had not smoked in years, hesitated.

“Do you smoke still?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“I ask because I miss spending time with you, not because I want to smoke or want you to smoke.”

“I… Yeah, I know. I… I miss you too. Let’s… have a smoke break.”

Although this familiar ritual was comforting and comfortable, Fury quickly found that smoking alone had lost its appeal.

In short order, the Found flocked to Danmairge. Fury was greeted by everyone, each of whom were in various states of overjoyed, and she was caught up on ALLTHETHINGS. Sun-Bearer promptly reestablished fandom time in the Castle Under the Sea.

Seeing how long she’d been gone, how big the kids had gotten, and how happy everyone was to see her, how much everyone loved her… Fury was utterly overwhelmed. She began to cry, for the first time in nearly 20 years. Seeing that she was embarrassed, the Swan Maiden ushered her to a private room for a little while. But it wasn’t long before Fury decided that she wanted to spend time with her family more than she wanted to not be embarrassed, so she spent the evening expressing all the emotions.

Later, Star-Bringer went about choosing a permanent lucky star for Fury.

Fated to Fall

Five years to the day of the Drowned King’s and She-Who-Hunger’s wedding, the Tuatha marched off to war against Cethlenn’s and Lir’s forces.

Prior to that, Mannanán mac Lir and Fand had approached the Drowned King and asked him to house their daughters, his half-sisters. He agreed, and they bound them to him with a geas.

For the days leading up to the deployment, the Morrígan had sought each of the Tuatha, save the Meaige, those among the Found, and Manannán mac Lir’s daughters, and wordlessly took their clothes and washed them with the aid of the Meaige. Finally, when that was done, the Morrígan removed her own clothing and presented them to her daughter to wash.

Ken and Ginger were nowhere to be found for the week surrounding the time the Tuatha were marching off to war.

Star-Bringer bestowed her blessings upon the Dagda, Ogma, Brigid, and Manannán mac Lir before they left.

A year and a day later, their Fate came upon them. The Tuatha gathered together, divesting their power utterly unto the Morrígan, becoming as mortals in the process. Lugh and Nuada returned to find their kin in war, and immediately joined the fray. Together, the Morrígan, Lugh, and Nuada sought Cethlenn, and together they managed to bring her down. But they each were lost, and the others fell under the Formorians’ weapons.

Set’s Return

At sunset one evening Set emerged from the fog surrounding Meten-Khai-Ra, Ra’s body cradled in his arms. He sought Anubis and instructed him to wash Ra’s body but not prepare him for burial. During this time, the Netjer received word of Set’s and Ra’s arrival and gathered around him and asked him about what had happened.

Set reported that all he remembers is being surrounded by impenatrable darkness. Within this darkness shone Ra’s body. He sought it and sought a way out. But piecing together that he was inside Apep, Set stopped and, through sheer force of will and strength, cut himself from Apep’s stomach. From there he traveled many days and many nights in search of the rest of the Netjer.

Star-Bringer asked if he saw Horus or Osiris. Set said he did not look: the most important thing was getting Ra’s body to safety, so he didn’t look for them.

“Right, but we need to worry about the others too.”

“I’m sorry, miss — who are you?”

“I am Sebamiewet, bringer of stars and daughter of Bastet, and wife of Abirakhet who is the bearer of the sun.”

“Thank you.”

The conversation ended there at that not-quite-snub.

Later, in privacy, Sun-Bearer told Star-Bringer about what he’d seen through his swallowed eye. Ra’s heart had not been beating, but his glory was bright and painful — given what he’d learned about Ra from Isis, Sun-Bearer suspects that one day Ra will return to life, but he’s uncertain when that will be. In regards to Set, there was something very menacing about his turbulent, ever-shifting visage, but also a strong sense of guardianship and pride in his ability to protect. Sun-Bearer was unsure about how to feel about Set, given this insight.

Isis, on the other hand, was impossible to read. She’d drawn the stars about her face.

Star-Bringer later went to Isis to discuss proceedings with her.

“An auspicious but sad day. I guess you were probably hoping that Osiris and Horus were coming home too.”

“Perhaps.”

“You know that we have friends that see everything everywhere. Maybe if we ask them to focus their attention on the search we would have some luck. If these two have returned, maybe the others have returned and are lost or in need of help. Don’t give up hope.”

Isis smiled a thin smile and gave Star-Bringer a tilt of the head, and accepted Star-Bringer’s offer to seek Osiris and Horus.

Star-Bringer then went to visit Morevuka in the Twisted Aspen. Morevuka brought out tea to hear her out. After some discussion, Morevuka said that she would ask her boss if she could do this and also inform Ken that Star-Bringer wanted his help.

Ken returned upon being asked for help (with Ginger) and asked how he could be of service. Star-Bringer asked him if he could enter Apep’s belly and search for Osiris and Horus. Ken said that he’d need more information first — and a babysitter for Ginger while he was gone.
From there Star-Bringer and Ken began to gather more information about Apep. They sought Bastet first.

“Mother, you have experience with Apep. What happens to things that get eaten by him?”

“Nobody knows. Only Set has returned from inside Apep.”

From there they sought Thoth with the same question.

“Presumably they are digested. I cannot say for sure. Not enough data points.”

“Are they digested by stomach acid or… ?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have that information. Not even Set was able to tell me.”

“What are the odds that someone will die instantly in Apep’s stomach?”

“Highly likely. I would offer a calculation but it would be a rough approximation.”

Given that information, Ken apologized to Star-Bringer and told her that he didn’t think he could safely explore Apep’s stomach. However, he offered to use his Path Magic to seek Osiris and Horus intead. Star-Bringer agreed.

Sun-Bearer agreed to act as Ginger’s guardian (primarily at night), and Ken arranged with her to do as she wished during the day provided she tell Sun-Bearer exactly what she planned on doing. He also prompted Sun-Bearer and Star-Bringer to come up with a list of rules and clear boundaries for Ginger. This proved no problem whatsoever. (Sun-Bearer is good at rules and boundaries, and Star-Bringer found nothing objectionable about them.) Ken arranged with the Drowned King to be an emergency daytime babysitter in case Ginger broke the rules. He agreed. And then Ken spoke privately to Ginger about what would happen if he didn’t come back. (Both seemed utterly confident that he would return.)

Before Ken left, Morevuka gave him a shadow wolf to carry in his pocket so that she could check in on him weekly, and facilitated a mind link between him and Ginger so they could keep in touch whenever they wanted. Star-Bringer sought the other Netjer and asked them for help or blessings. Blessings were given (for that was the politically correct thing to do for someone who was seeking their king). Nephthys gave Ken a reed doll that was from Horus’s childhood to help him locate Horus.

Fury and Ares

At a family dinner, Fury brought up an encounter she had with Ares. He had sought her for retribution; he wanted her to kill Adonis for fathering a child on Aphrodite.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I’m here asking you.”

“Why are you asking me? Can’t you kill him yourself?”

“I don’t want to make Aphrodite upset.”

“Isn’t that exactly what’s going to happen if I kill Adonis?”

“Yes, but I won’t be the one who made her upset. And with Adonis dead she’ll start seeing me again.”

From there Fury laid the consequences out further for Ares. She surmised that, in her grief at the loss of the father of her young child, Aphrodite may not wish to see Ares anymore regardless. At this thought, Ares balked and withdrew his request.

Star-Bringer, thoroughly impressed, congratulated Fury on standing up to Ares and making him think, and then (after consulting the Swan Maiden about what would be an appropriate gift) invited her to dinner.

Ginger and Her Foster Family

Surprisingly, Ginger found Sun-Bearer very easy to communicate with. His clear boundaries were easy to follow, and he was very firm about them which offered her a sense of comfort and security. Every night they ate dinner together and discussed their day, and then Ginger would tell him and Star-Bringer (if she was around) about her plans for the next day.

One night, Sun-Bearer prompted her about her day.

“My day kinda sucked. I felt sorta sick all day and didn’t get everything done that I wanted to get done. And then I got my first period. It sucks and it’s gross. I don’t wanna birthday anymore. Can I hide my birthday in Kenspace? Please?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re not the only one who has that birthday.”

“But growing older is awful!”

“Not everyone feels that way.”

“But Gianna has to curl up for days when she gets her period.”

“Boys share your birthday too, and they don’t get periods.”

Ginger grumped, “Well lucky them.”

“There are also plenty of girls who don’t experience much pain when they menstruate. I’m sure some of them were born the same day as you.”

“I guess…”

“Maybe you can work with Ken to find an alternative after he gets back.”

“But I feel gross and sick and achy now.”

“Well, there are ways to ease that. But I… ah… I’m afraid I don’t have any experience with that. You can talk to Sanura… Susan, Angela, Aida, Moe, Lisa, Carmen, Sofia, Dovile, Lena… oh, I’m sure Mokosh knows a great deal.”

“Then I’ll go get Susan’s advice for relieving cramps. You can take some time to decide what you feel comfortable doing. Just let me know before you do it.”

From there Star-Bringer took the reins, ensuring that Ginger got a collection of comfortable underclothing, showed her how to wash them most effectively, showed her how to arrange her clothing so that her blood wouldn’t leak out or show. Before Sun-Bearer left, he heated a soft animal skin water bottle between his hands to help Ginger.

Eventually Ginger had girl time with all the girls Sun-Bearer had suggested in Mokosh’s cottage.

After being updated via mind link, Ken challenged Ginger to find two alternatives to hiding her birthday and suggested that she talk to people about being old so she can get an idea for the consequences of never getting older.

At the next Found family dinner, Ginger asked Dovile what it was like being old. She got a mostly positive response, which was very heartening to Ginger. She began to seriously consider some alternatives to hiding her birthday.

Really pleased how well this fostering arrangement was working out, Star-Bringer approached her husband again about having children. After some discussion, they decided that they would wait until the effects of Osiris and Horus coming back — if they were to come back at all — were over and the Netjer stabilized once again. (Also Star-Bringer gushed at length about how adorable Sun-Bearer was in his handling of Ginger’s period.)

Yesen’s Return

After emerging from her intel reporting to Lord Father Svarozhich via his dream, Yesen proceeded to spend every following Emotion-Having Tuesday getting angry and throwing things. But, upon seeing how everyone was waiting on the edges of their seats for the Lord Father’s awakening, it wasn’t enough.

Yesen began to spend increasingly more time in dreamland. For a while she frequented Galen’s dreams because generally they’re nice and sometimes they’re intriguing — but soon he caught her. After some discussion, he invited her to hang out with him, Ruben, Senbast, and Leanne throughout the rest of the week/on the weekends. She took him up on it.

Ruben and Eloisa

At a family dinner, Ruben mentioned that the Teotl had arranged a marriage between him and Eloisa Cruz on his twentieth birthday. Concerned, Star-Bringer checked to ensure that Ruben was okay with marrying for politics rather than for love. He laid out the points for her:

The Teotl need more help if they’re to survive, but they can’t afford to be in debt to anyone else and their culture doesn’t give a whole lot of space for it anyway.

Eloisa says she’s okay with it.

Eloisa is Alejandra’s daughter, and Alejandra is Tezcatlipoca’s daughter. That makes this a powerful political alliance.

Ruben’s at no shortage of love and support in his life. So “finding love” is not a high priority for him. And he refuses to date anyone he can brain control. So chances are low that he’ll “fall in love.”

Marrying for political reasons does not preclude love of any kind, either inside or out of the marriage.

Even if he were to “fall in love,” marriage is an economic construct which won’t in any way enhance his commitment to someone he loves. In fact, it entails a sense of ownership, which is not something he considers conducive to an egalitarian relationship.

He’s very much against passing his psychoses on via any children he and Eloisa might have, but Mom says that that comes from a place of self-hatred and it doesn’t account for passing on his coping mechanisms or helping his children find more effective ways to cope. He figures she’s probably right. In any case, children aren’t a requirement in a marriage, so he can cross that bridge if/when they ever get to it.

He has three years to change his mind.

Failing all else, divorce is a thing.

… but (after a prompting look from Lisa) he expressed he appreciates her caring.

Along those lines, Eloisa has approached him about hanging out on a regular basis, because she intends to get to know her fiance. Ruben asked everyone if it’d be alright if she joined them for a family dinner sometime.

A Mother’s Request

Frigg lighted outside Star-Bringer’s windowsill and rose from her falcon form, drawing back her cloak of feathers. She requested an audience with her. Frigg’s manner was subdued, and the air around her heavy. She asked Star-Bringer if she could shed a tear for Baldur, or for a family losing their most beloved member, a son his father, a wife her husband, a mother her son, a people their sunlight and joy. Star-Bringer could not help but oblige and asked if she could assist further. Frigg thanked her but couldn’t think of anything. Star-Bringer offered her encouragement before she went on her way.

Eventually, Frigg went to Morevuka and asked the same of her. Dobrozhe was happy to lend his sadness and empathy to Dovile (and Yesen). Morevuka asked Ken on behalf of Frigg, who offered some of his own tears for her. Humbly, Frigg thanked them and continued on her journey.

Fimbulwinter

With the death of Baldur, the Aesir had grown grim. A funeral was held to send Baldur to Helheim, during which Nanna threw herself upon the pyre. Hod was detained, his sentencing awaiting Frigg’s return.

The World descended into the coldest global winter it had experienced to date. Ken, noticing this was occurring, went to every community he could find to let them know that the winter was only going to get colder and harsher and that he was willing to bring everyone to a safer place. Together, him and Ginger began to move towns and cities to near Bakersfield.

Svarozhich Awakens

Svarozhich awakened from his very long nap. The Bogovi Council, as headed by Dobrozhe, was dissolved, and Svarozhich began looking over the matters they had discussed and the laws they had decided on. He also began seeing petitioners. The following are the major decisions he’s made and petitioners he’s seen:

The Bogovi are no longer to interact with mortals or interfere with their affairs.

The Bogovi are not to get involved in foreign politics.

Dazhbog angrily demanded recompense for Svarozhich kidnapping Lada and wiping her memory so that she would forever remain by Dazhbog’s side. Svarozhich did not offer any.

Morena formally requested permission to have another child, this time by her husband. Svarozhich denied her request.

Mokosh reported to Svarozhich about Mokosits’s remolding by Svarog and begged him to give Mokosits a place among the Bogovi. Svarozhich refused.

Svarozhich officially stated that he would suspend judgement on whether or not Yesen should continue to exist until a later date.

Although he did not expressly forbid Morevuka, Dobrozhe, Yesen, and Mokosits from attending Found family dinners, they had to report where they were going and why everytime they left Domobog — and Stribog had sanction to watch their every move outside of Domobog. Moreover, Dobrozhe was given new duties at his father’s side which kept him away, and Mokosits was instructed to be the official gofer for all matters regarding the Slavic souls.

As a result, Morevuka — and company — became more withdrawn around friends and family.

Ken Finds Horus

After over a year of travel, Ken finally reached the end of the path. There he found Osiris, conveying Horus’s head (for he was unable to find the rest of Horus). Ken introduced himself and informed Osiris that his family had sent him to find him. He then asked if Osiris would like a ride back. Osiris accepted, and was quickly brought to Meten-Khai-Ra.

Morevuka send word along to Sun-Bearer, who went to break Star-Bringer out of her trance. The other Netjer began flocking to Osiris.

His job done, Ken went to find Ginger (who was utterly excited to see him). The two of them were curious about events, so they unintrusively eavesdropped from afar.

Nephthys was the first to approach Osiris, by far. She was very formal with him, but asked to touch Horus’s head. He allowed her to, presenting the head, and she stroked Horus’s brow, utterly reserved but for the resigned sorrow in her eyes. Then she turned away and sought some distance as the others approached.

Isis was the next to arrive. Upon seeing Horus’s head, her demeanor closed up instantly. Osiris saw this and touched her face. She opened up just enough to put her hand over his, but soon drew away and took her place by his side.

Soon it was known that Horus was beyond Isis’s abilities to fix. His head had been bitten off by some crocodile beast, and the rest of his body could not be found — presumably eaten. He’d been dead for some time, and being as how his heart, lungs, stomach, and intestines could not be found, Anubis could not call upon his spirit to ask questions. Horus was well and truly lost to oblivion.

Morevuka sought the moist, dark earth for answers. Its response: “The Lord Father decreed that the Bogovi would not get involved in foreign politics.” She apologized and withdrew her assistance to Star-Bringer and Sun-Bearer.

A funeral was held for Horus. She-Who-Hungers and the Drowned King were both invited to attend, which they did. Star-Bringer and Sun-Bearer also attended, but Star-Bringer was troubled by the fact that whatever it was had killed Horus was still unknown and at large; and, moreover, that this clearly meant that the Netjer would not be able to find the stability they had before. Sun-Bearer agreed — they would have to find a new balance. Star-Bringer decided to approach the Mother of the Lost about whatever it was that had killed Horus.

After the funeral, Set approached She-Who-Hungers about her hunger, seeming to think they had common ground. She didn’t appreciate that, told him to back off, and he did. Later she expressed this to Star-Bringer and Sun-Bearer, and made it clear that she was highly suspicious of Set but doesn’t want to get involved in Netjer politics.

Ginger Says Goodbye

Upon his return, Ken picked up his guardianship of Ginger anew. She bade Sun-Bearer and Star-Bringer goodbye, complete with hugs. Star-Bringer hinted that she could come over for dinner a couple times a month. Ginger seemed to like this idea.

Set Calls for Council

A week after Horus’s funeral, Set called for a Netjer council regarding who would pick up duties as the sun bearer and king of the gods a week hence.

Isis approached Star-Bringer and Sun-Bearer and strongly advised them not to go to the meeting — to instead absent themselves under the pretense of mourning, so that the council cannot be held. Star-Bringer asked her why, to which Isis responded, “Because I don’t trust Set. Because in the past he has tried to murder my son for the kingship. On more than one occasion.”

Star-Bringer consulted her husband about what he wanted to do. Sun-Bearer stated firmly that he wanted to go to the council, hear Set out, and make it clear that he is willing to capitulate if Set is truly the best person for the job.

Isis persisted, expressing that this council was most certainly a power play — that Set would do everything in his power to seize the kingship, even if it meant killing Sun-Bearer, which it most likely did. So long as they filibustered the meeting, they could ensure more supporters and then safely keep things the way they are.

This didn’t sit well with either Star-Bringer or Sun-Bearer, both of whom wanted to start their new relationships with honesty and forthrightness. Sun-Bearer also stated that if he attended this council, not only will he have given Set the opportunity to be civil, but if Set doesn’t take the opportunity then it will be eminently clear and they can move from there. Isis stressed that if he went and it came down to violence Sun-Bearer would most certainly lose — and in turn the Netjer would be lost, and indeed a great deal more.

“Lady, I don’t mean to disrespect you, but you say that Set is hiding things. And yet upon his return there has been a sense of you withdrawing and hiding.”

“Are you trying to blame me for not trusting Set?”

“No, there is no blame to be had. You have valid reason for your suspicion, and I am very grateful for your concern, as I know Derrick is. But hiding yourself from those you perceive to be a threat and hiding yourself from all are not the same.”

“And how often have you hidden yourself?”

“Have you met me? I hide nothing. I give away far too much.”

“That is exactly my point.”

“You think this would be a detriment in this situation?”

“Absolutely! Vulnerability is the most powerful weapon.”

“Is it always backstabbing? We are gods! Why are we so petty? There is enough power for everyone! Yet we all scrape and claw for more! If I had known this was what godhood was, I don’t think I would’ve signed up! Not that I did…”

“I could not even begin to explain.”

“Do you not know, or do you not have faith in my ability to comprehend?”

“There is a great deal that I do not know, and there is a great deal that you do not know.”

“Tell me about it… Can you give count of who would stand behind Derrick currently if it came to it?”

“Yes. I know of ten who would support me or have supported Horus. There are twelve who stand between, and four whose respect for Set runs deep.”

Taking these presentiments seriously, Sun-Bearer and Star-Bringer decided they would take some more time to think it over and gather more information.

Hathor’s Counsel

While Sun-Bearer was continuing his daily duties, Star-Bringer sought advice from Hathor. She invited her to Crook’s haven for tea and cookies, and carefully broached the subject of the upcoming council meeting.

“You know… Isis is troubled by some repurcussions of the return of Set and what happened to Horus. She came to Derrick and I about it and she wants us to forestall the scheduled meeting.” She proceeded to go into greater detail about Isis’s plans.

Hathor grew a little grim and nodded like, ‘Yeah, this makes sense.’

“I’ve read about these people for my entire life but that’s not the same as knowing them. You know everyone, and you like everyone, and you want the best outcome just like the rest of us. What’s your take? What’s the climate? Do you agree that you should use this tactic? Honestly, I don’t like it. I feel like honesty is almost always best. It feels like if we do as Isis desires, we’d be perpetrating the same old patterns and I don’t want to continue that vicious cycle.”

“Oh, honey. I’m sorry you’re getting wrapped up in all this. But I’m afraid I may not be the best person to ask about this. You see…” She thought a moment, then squared herself. “A long time ago, Set raped me. He hasn’t tried it since. But I don’t trust him, and I haven’t spoken to him much in that time. I fear Isis’s consternation is not entirely unfounded.”

Star-Bringer was utterly taken aback, and a hardness entered her eyes. “Aside from distrust of Set — which is understandable, I don’t like the look of him anyway — do you think if there was a peaceful vote, do you think it would come out in Set’s favor?”

“Unfortunately that’s a complicated question.” Hathor proceeded to describe the power of being the right hand of Ra, and how much credibility someone in that position has. If it was just about guarding then maybe it would come out in Set’s favor. But since it’s also about trust and power… she’s not sure. Different things are important to different people and she has no idea what Set wants/intends to do with that kind of power given how unpredictable he is.

“Of course I didn’t expect a headcount or anything so this is really helpful, thank you. It’s really looking more and more like Set will try to turn this into a physical altercation. I wonder… Can you keep a secret?”

“I’ll try, but if it’ll hurt anyone…”

“Well… I won’t tell you how I know this, but I know I can create a copy of someone, so maybe I can make a copy of Derrick and send that to the meeting…”

Hathor told her that it indicates 1) Sun-Bearer and Star-Bringer are afraid and 2) they’re willing to lie to everyone.

“Yes… I see your point. What about if I put protections on Derrick… ?”

“Well… on the one hand that might make Derrick look respectful of Set’s power. On the other hand it might make him look afraid. I’m not sure who would think what, but it would certainly make quite a statement.”

“I don’t think I can make something powerful enough anyway.”

Hathor didn’t disagree.

Given no other recourse, Star-Bringer expressed that she was afraid and she didn’t know what to do. Hathor gave her a big hug and a great deal of sympathy, and lamented that she didn’t know either, but she’d look for ways to help.

Bastet’s Counsel

Bastet took her time sampling the food and wine, leveled Star-Bringer with a look, and said wryly, “Offering accepted. What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“First of all, I love you, woman. I did this because you’re great. Secondly, I can see where Crook gets it from.”

Bastet simply waited for Star-Bringer to ask what she was going to ask, patiently bearing the defensive rant that followed.

“We should do something like this a little more often. Let’s do this more often… if you’re not opposed.”

“Not at all.”

“Great! But… you were right in that this meeting has a purpose. Surely you’re up to date on the council meeting…”

“… and Set.”

“Yes. And Set. First of all… did he wrong you in any way?”

“He took my dear sister against her will. I’d consider that a wrong.”

“Yeah, okay. Point taken. But I meant you specifically.”

“No, he hasn’t dared.”

“Yeah… I figured. But you’re not a fan either.”

“You could say that.”

“As one of the guardians for Ra on his daily journey… you know the situation and the players better than anyone else. Do you have any insight to offer?”

“I may.”

“You may and… you want more offerings?”

“That depends on what you want to know.”

“For starters… if Set does become the bearer of this honor… would you work with him as well? Is that how that worked in the past? Or would he be seeking to edge you out too? I know it’s not as politically advantageous, but it’s still an important job. Would he desire to have that entire office unto himself?”

“I should think not. It’s not his place. And he hasn’t tried it before.”

“Do you think that his desire to retake his old position is more than the duty and honor of performing it?”

“Absolutely I do. There’s no question of that.”

“Do you have any opinions on his directions as far as being in charge? Do you think it would be fair or foul for the pantheon?”

“I think it would be chaos. This is what Set wreaks, either intentionally or not.”

“I’m getting pretty strong vibes that this council is a ruse. Do you concur?”

“Perhaps. I would almost expect Set to come up with other ruses, though, so I cannot say for sure. But I’ve never been terribly interested in politics.”

“I wish I didn’t have to be.”

“Well, you didn’t have to get married to Abirakhet, knowing his ties to kingship.”

Star-Bringer prickled. “Yeah, I kinda did.”

Bastet said nothing more, instead sipping more wine.

“If it came down to it… you’d be on Derrick’s side, right?”

“Without question.”

“I thought so. But you’re hard to read.”

“Good.” At that, Bastet smiled.

“Has Isis shared her fears with you?”

“Isis shares very little with me. And what she does share she does so to gain some kind of leverage from or over me. I’m surprised you haven’t asked about her.”

“Asked about her… ?”

“Like you are asking about Set.”

“To be honest, it hadn’t occurred to me.”

“I suppose I should not be surprised.”

“What do you mean by that?” Star-Bringer tried to keep her expression neutral, but could not help feel a little insulted.

“Isis is very good at what she does. And what she does is deceive. She’s as manipulative as Set. But at least with Set we know he’s against Horus. Isis, on the other hand… has hurt Horus as often as she’s hurt Set.”

Star-Bringer was stricken. “So… can I expect her to be willing to harm Derrick?”

“That would be a safe bet.”
Star-Bringer deflated. Bastet watched her a little, then said, “It’s not to say she doesn’t care. But in some ways that makes it worse. Because you don’t know when she’s caring about you and when she’s using you and when she’s doing both.”

“So… if this were to be an altercation… what would that look like? Would it be to the death? What can I expect?”

“It would be safest to assume it would be to the death. For how else can Set completely assure his ascension?”

“If there were a way to make Derrick mortal again, would that do it?”

“I’m not sure… That wouldn’t necessarily disqualify him…”

“Not worth it then. Well… if you were in my really cute shoes…” she paused to show them off, “… what would you do?”

“I would try to find a way to buy time until Ra’s return, and then I would go to him with this dilemma. Failing that, which may be likely, I would face Set with my husband and defend him to the death. And I would do it with my shoes off. I prefer my feet to be bare.” Bastet offered Star-Bringer a smile.

Star-Bringer nodded, chuckling at Bastet’s last couple of statements. “Is there any way to judge when Ra will awaken?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Will this take days or eons?”

“I… don’t know. There is no precedent for this.”

“How should I stall?”

“Start with what Isis has planned, and look for opportunities from there.”

“If you have any more insights at any point in the future… would you please, please come to me about them?”

Star-Bringer Updates Sun-Bearer

After Sun-Bearer’s return from his duties the next day, Star-Bringer approached him and gave him an update about what she had gleaned from Hathor and Bastet. Sun-Bearer took it in all as a matter of course, contemplating insights new and old.

“You don’t seem surprised at all about my mother’s assessment of Isis.”

“No. Bastet is very observant.”

“So you… agree with her?”

“Yes.”

Again Star-Bringer deflated. “God, I’m so gullible.”

Sun-Bearer gave her a hug. “I do think she cares, very deeply. I just think the way that she cares can be dangerous.”

They proceeded to discuss a plan of action. Sun-Bearer stated that he thinks Bastet’s tack is the best option: stall until Ra wakes up and then consult him about the dilemma. That unfortunately had to start with doing as Isis told them to do, and to the letter. However, he stressed that they had to remain very vigilant for an opportunity for their own tactics because it would be all too easy to rely entirely on Isis.

“Derrick. I need to know… with Tim, you said that if it came down to a confrontation, given all the lives that yours affects, given the importance you have to so many other people… you would not sacrifice yourself. If you were to be in direct conflict with Set… would the same be true? Would you not sacrifice yourself?”

“Sanura, if I got into a fight with Set, I would do everything in my power to win.”

“Then know that I will stand by you. I know I’m not very physically inclined, and am not a capable warrior, but I will do all that I can to help keep you safe. I will not stand by and watch you from the sidelines. I trust you were planning on this.”

Sun-Bearer looked at the ground and waited for her to finish. When she did, he said, “Actually, I was planning on discussing with you about staying with Lisa should it even begin to look like there would be a fight.”

“Well, that’s not happening. I know that you don’t want me to be hurt, but —”

At that, Sun-Bearer took a deep breath and looked to her. “It’s not that I don’t want you to be hurt, which I don’t. It’s not that I am scared out of my wits for you, which I am. It’s not that I love you, which I do.” He took her hands in his. “Sanura, I said I would do everything in my power to win. Well, you are the single most effective point of leverage against me. If something were to happen in the course of the fight, if you were subdued and held hostage or tortured… I…” He paused, considering his next statement very deeply. “I would lose.”

This stunned Star-Bringer. For a while she groped for words, and then she said, distraught, “I’m… I’m not supposed to be your weakness.” She was on the verge of tears. “I’m supposed to be your strength.”

At that Sun-Bearer drew her into a tight embrace. “You are. God, you are, in so many ways.”

“I’m terrified, Derrick. You’re caught up in all this and there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t want it to come to violence.”

He continued to hold her. “I don’t either. I’m sincerely hoping it won’t.”

Star-Bringer attempted to shore herself up. “Well… I… I’d like to go get Lisa’s advice, if you think that’d be prudent. Maybe a new perspective will help us.” She started to shift to prepare to rise and head out.

“Of course.” A pause. “But we don’t need to be in too much of a hurry. We still have all night. Did you want to take a moment to just sit here like this and… and just be… vulnerable? With me?”

And then Star-Bringer fell even more in love. “Yeah… yeah, I think that would be good.”

The Mother of the Lost’s Counsel, Reprise

Together, Star-Bringer and Sun-Bearer sought the Mother of the Lost. She left a door open for them in her library, leading to the depths of her demense.

“There’s a lot of things that may happen because of Set’s return and his designs. He has desires that are unknown and worrisome. You know the past that occurred. We don’t know if we can avoid an outright conflict with him. I, as you can imagine, want to be there with Derrick if something goes wrong, if it’s not avoidable. I am fully aware that it’s not the smart choice and he has indicated his preference that I spend a little time with you if that happens. He feels like it would be more advantageous because of his focus. I, on the other hand, understand his point and feel it’s valid but also I worry that even though I’m not a warrior that I could help more than I could hurt. I wanted to know if you saw any hints about the more advantageous arrangement for Derrick’s survival.”

“I believe I already indicated — at least I think I did — that it would be safest if you stayed with me. Not just for you, but for Derrick and everyone involved in these tangled affairs.”

“How sure are you on a scale of 1 to 100 that this is the best solution?”

The Mother of the Lost just offered her a sympathetic smile.

Star-Bringer grumbled that she’ll be beating Sun-Bearer up later.

Eventually the Mother of the Lost said, “Ra will rise one day. And when he does, he’ll set things right.”

“With everything you know, and will know, and have known…” Star-Bringer offered a sardonic smile before continuing. “Can you tell me what I can do to protect him?”

“It won’t be protection that he’ll need from you. It’ll be love and support.”

“What are we, the Hallmark Channel?”

“Yes. Why do you think we hardly hear from Dovile and the few times Ken’s around he doesn’t speak in Russian?”

Star-Bringer got a little frustrated and then nodded and mulled over a few things. Sun-Bearer squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back, a little harder. Eventually she accepted that she won’t be able to help as much as she would like in the way that she would like. And then she asked, “I know that I’m not particularly adept at deceptions and politicking in this way… Love is never in question and support as well… but do you guys think my support should not include delving further into the intrigues and opinions of the Netjer?”

The Mother of the Lost glanced to Sun-Bearer and then answered, “That is a tangled web that has been woven for thousands of years.”

“To be honest, I haven’t taken action like that because all this is way over my head. There’s no way I can cover that ground without thousands of years myself. I’m afraid if you get involved in this way you’ll get in too deep and won’t be able to come out.”

“If you feel you’re in over your head, how am I supposed to leave you to it by yourself? How am I supposed to just sit and watch you from the sidelines?”

“There are many steps between now and then. It hasn’t turned to fighting yet. So stay. Be with me. Maybe there will yet be an opportunity for you to help.”

After digesting his words for a moment, Star-Bringer eased and offered him a smile. “You mean I’m on the team, coach?”

Gang Violence

After Sanura and Ken have a discussion about the Netjer troubles, Ken approached Ginger to ask her what she thought about the situation, the changes, and the people involved. Ginger had heard bits and pieces here and there while visiting and having dinner with Sun-Bearer and Star-Bringer, but, as she had said she wouldn’t actually go to Meten-Khai-Ra ever again, that was the extent of it. Her impression was that Set is an asshole and probably wants to kill Sun-Bearer which means that they can’t actually sit down and talk this out.

After hearing her incomplete picture, Ken compared the situation to gang politics. Right away Ginger got it and all the implications surrounding it and became quite distressed. From there Ken explained that he refuses to pick a side even though he sorely wants to — he was planning on avoiding the conflict by being nowhere near it because he knew that if he got involved he would do things, terrible things, that he didn’t want to do. He also encouraged Ginger to consider what it would mean to pick a side and talk to people who have had to face these kinds of choices or would be able to help her work out the consequences (specifically Morevuka, Fury, Rose Thorn Child, and Sun-Bearer). Ginger took these words to heart and sought out each of the people he suggested.

Morevuka expressed that her choices — past, present, and future — have everything to do with what her duty is. All personal consequences were to be dealt with separately. Ginger then asked her what she planned to do about all this. Morevuka said that she would wait and watch, because she was told not to get involved. And if Sun-Bearer should die, she will continue to do her duty and mourn later. Ginger sulked about how lame that was for a while, thanked Morevuka for talking to her (and the muffin) and left.

Fury, on the other hand, broke down all the possible consequences of Ginger joining Sun-Bearer in this political struggle, moving step-by-step through potential outcomes. Ginger was utterly focused, and grew increasingly horrified and overwhelmed by all the possibilities. Realizing that she was being much too much, Fury decided to stop and suggest that maybe Ginger talk to someone else.

Rose Thorn Child described his experience with gang politics (and cosmic politics!), explaining that for each new decision he made he was prepared to die to ensure that the conflict would end sustainably peacefully. Ginger was overwhelmed by the thought of having to accept dying anew with literally every decision.

Finally, while Sun-Bearer did not express to Ginger that he’d rather her stay far away from this conflict, he did explain all the ways that she could be used against him, and how, if anything happened to her, he’s not sure how he’d be able to live with himself. Defeated, Ginger went to Ken and said she’d be going with him.

Before they left, Ken swore an oath to Sun-Bearer and Star-Bringer: if they are ever trapped in a place where they can’t leave, they can call on Ken and he will free them.

The Found’s Foreign Policy

Star-Bringer sought the Mother of the Lost regarding the Found’s involvement in Netjer affairs. The Mother of the Lost stated that they will stay out of it but will offer asylum to those who ask for it. They cannot risk a multi-pantheon war because a great deal of them have connections — and strong ones too — to other pantheons.

Senbast expressed that he would not be going to Meten-Khai-Ra during this conflict and will remain firmly neutral. She-Who-Hungers and the Drowned King are also steering clear of Netjer politics, because their position as keepers of the dead for all pantheons ties their hands pretty firmly.

Isis expressed that she strongly believes Set has had enough time to become very aware of the Found’s ties and will also not risk a multi-pantheon war. That would be incredibly foolhardy, and Set is many things but he is not a fool.

The Netjer Council

Isis, Osiris, Sun-Bearer, Star-Bringer, Duamutef, Imsety, Hapy, and Qebehsenuef began the 72-day process of mourning together; naturally spending most of that time chatting about Set. Star-Bringer approached Isis, asking about what Set’s next move will be, which Isis admitted she didn’t know. Then Star-Bringer asked whether it would be politically prudent if she gave a lucky star to Sun-Bearer, and Isis told her it would be fine.

After the council had passed, Khepri approached Isis and spoke with her. She closed up and stiffened. Seeing that she would not be forthcoming, Sun-Bearer asked her what happened.

It turned out that, while Set was at the Council with all the Netjer who were not currently in the boycotting process, Ares, Phobos, Deimos, and Enyo stole Ra’s body and brought it to Set, who then announced that he would not release the body until every last Netjer comes to the next meeting in a week’s time.

Stunned, Star-Bringer asked what they were to do next. Isis expressed that Sun-Bearer would be a suitable sun for the time being, and he could continue to do what he had been doing since before Set arrived. But she also expressed that Ares’s involvement only serves to confirm her suspicions about Set intending to turn this to violence. The best thing they can do is not play into Set’s plans. She advised Sun-Bearer to surround himself with capable people whom he trusted while he carried out his duties across the sky. Star-Bringer offered to join Sun-Bearer, but he expressed trepidation for the same reasons as when they were discussing her living with the Found at the first sign of violence. She decided to get started right away on commissioning Sun-Bearer’s lucky star, staying with the Found while she began her communion with the starry sky.

The Theoi

Immediately after, Star-Bringer went to the Mother of the Lost and demanded to know if she had known this would happen. The Mother of the Lost offered Star-Bringer much sympathy and explained that her trust in the Mother of the Lost would be shaken a great deal in the days to come. But, as she had said before, Ra will come back and set things right.

From there, Star-Bringer asked about how the Theoi were involved, what their involvement in this burgeoning political conflict would look like and entail. It was then Galen arrived astride his pegasus. The Mother of the Lost suggested to Star-Bringer that he might know something.

It turned out that Hera had attempted to talk Ares down but failed. Star-Bringer, alerted to this, demanded to know how long they had known Ares would do this, to which Galen responded that he only just found out today and has no idea how or how long Hera had known. Then Star-Bringer asked if any of the other Theoi would stay out of it, to which Galen said that it seemed for the most part like they would, and that he has no idea what was in store for Ares and company. (Seeing that Star-Bringer was really stressed, Galen offered her a hug and some amenities like bath salts or chocolates.)

Sun-Bearer Strategizes

As arranged, Sun-Bearer brought Star-Bringer out of her star communion before the boycott each week. Over the course of the next month of council boycotts nothing happened, but Sun-Bearer began to strongly suspect Isis was planning something. Using visiting his wife as a pretense to leave Meten-Khai-Ra (and with her creating a false Sun-Bearer as she had with Sigyn and her boys to solidify the pretense), he met with Athena, and they worked together to come up with a plan to allow Sun-Bearer to speak on peaceful terms with Set. Acting as head of the Theoi pantheon, Athena would arrange and mediate the meeting.

Working around Star-Bringer’s lucky star project at Sun-Bearer’s request, Athena delayed the initial meeting date by a couple weeks.

Isis Sows a Seed

Without interrupting Star-Bringer’s communion with the stars, Isis approached her, requesting a moment of her time. She expressed deep empathy for Star-Bringer’s struggle — being able to do nothing but stand by and watch as her loved ones are at risk is awful, and she’s sorry that Star-Bringer has to endure it.

Star-Bringer expressed deep appreciation for Isis reaching out like this and pointed out that she’s not the only one who’s enduring this: Isis is too, watching her grandson get caught up in this political struggle couldn’t be easy. But she told Isis to take heart, expressing deep faith in Sun-Bearer’s intelligence, resourcefulness, and drive. If anyone could find a way to solve this peacefully, it would be him — after all, it’s not the first time that he’s succeeded beyond anyone’s expectations.

“Thank you, Sebamiewet. Those are very comforting words. Your faith in your husband is inspiring. But, given the opportunity to help, what would you be willing to do?”

“Well… I was ready to punch Thor in the face after he’d knocked Derrick out, so…”

She smiled. “Well, I have an idea and it won’t involve punching anyone in the face. Would you be willing to hear it out?”

She did not express her slight disappointment that there would be no punching involved. “Yes, of course.”

“My recommendation to you is to conceive an heir.”

Star-Bringer was completely surprised, but quickly gathered her wits. “Isn’t it too dangerous for a baby?”

“Were the situation, the people involved, any different, then yes. I wouldn’t have even suggested it. But you are staying somewhere Set dares not touch you. You and your child could stay there until your child reaches majority and is able to defend himself.”

“Even with the best family, this child would be growing up in what’s effectively a prison, living in constant fear of being murdered by Set. Does any child deserve that?”

“I believe if the line of succession were secured, Set will be more inclined towards civil discussion. After all, it makes the political situation that much more complicated, and much less easily solved by violence.”

“I’m not sure. Let me think on this.”

“Of course. Thank you for hearing me out.”

From there, Star-Bringer discussed this possibility with Sun-Bearer, expressing deep trepidation about the child growing up not free, and the skeevy feel of this whole thing, using an innocent child to further a political agenda. Sun-Bearer expressed that A) it did make a great deal of political sense, B) freedom isn’t a concern because either way politics would restrict their child’s movements (after all, their marriage contract stated that large portions of the heir’s upbringing would be by Isis and Thoth), C) the stability of the Netjer was at stake here which is sadly more important than them and their hypothetical child, and D) they could ensure that politics did not define their relationship with their child. But he didn’t like the idea at all: saddling their child with a political burden of this nature inspired in him a deep unease. Given this stalemate, Star-Bringer decided that she would go with what Sun-Bearer thought. He expressed that the responsibility should not fall entirely to him. Eventually they decided to seek the Mother of the Lost for help with this decision.

“How important is it to you to appease Isis?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you take Isis’s suggestion, that would leave her to believe you are trusting her. She may be less suspicious of you, which is another political benefit. But if we aren’t talking politics… I recommend you talk to Mokosh. Legend has it she conceived Mokosits so that she would have a representative in the world to spread worship of her.”

They took her suggestion. Star-Bringer invited her to join them in the library for tea and made up as fine a homemade spread as she could manage. Mokosh accepted their invitation; and Star-Bringer carefully stepped around the issue, trying to make Mokosh more comfortable and prime her for the coming topic. Sun-Bearer, on the other hand jumped right in.

“We’re facing a tough decision: we’re considering having a child to secure the line of succession and give us political leverage. Neither of us are happy with this idea, but it makes a great deal of sense. We’d appreciate any input you can offer, or any experiences you’re willing to share.”

“Ah yes. This is very… tricky.” She grew serious and thought for a long moment. “You are speaking of Mokosits, da?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. Yes. I had Mokosits for power. Even leaving out the worship and honors I gained from him, the connection I had with the people that no one else did.. all children are… resources, and resources are power. This is a fact of life. But this is not the only reason I had Mokosits. He is my dear son and he knows this. Our relationship is deeper than politics. However, we still answer to the politics, and he hurts because of it. And I hurt because of it.” She considered for another moment. “But this is very different. I… broke a law. The two of you would not be breaking a law, not that I know of.” She looked up to the two of them pointedly. “In any case, I do not recommend breaking any laws. Breaking laws causes too much… noise. If you must do anything with laws, you listen to them respectfully.” She continued, “I do not know what it would look like otherwise, except maybe with Vilka and Sashunya. Talk to them, see how they feel.”

She also offered them fertility assistance, if that’s what they decided to do. They thanked her for her time and offer.

Later, Star-Bringer decided that A) this political act might help the child have a more stable future, B) politics were going to happen anyway, and C) they’d already decided to have a family, and soon. Why let Set disrupt their life any further than he has? They needed to take their lives back from him.

Sun-Bearer was still trepidatious, still chewing on the political situation, still thinking about what Mokosh had said, and what she hadn’t said. But he could not articulate his discomfort, and could not justify not going through with it. He asked Star-Bringer if she was certain this was what she wanted. She said as certain as she can possibly be.

They went to Isis about their decision to secure her trust in them. She blessed them both, weaving her magics to ensure fertility.

February 14th, 2033, they conceived an heir. Star-Bringer then returned to her star communion, to be awakened before the meeting so she could spend time with her husband, in case anything went awry.

Sun-Bearer and Set

With Athena acting as mediator, Set agreed to meet with Sun-Bearer, alone. Prior to the meeting, Morevuka sneaked a shadow wolf into the shadows of Sun-Bearer’s belly. They began to broach the topic of negotiations.

Before they could make any significant progress, Duamutef, Imsety, Hapy, and Qebehsenuef launched a surprise attack on Set. Isis stepped in and spirited Sun-Bearer away to her demense. From there, Set called upon his allies to ensure that Athena did not flee and quickly subdued the four sons of Horus. Thus freed, Set declared that the Theoi had lost their credibility — if they truly wished to honor their allegiance with the Netjer, they would join him. Athena refused, stating that the Theoi are to remain neutral. Ares then challenged her right to leadership, and suggested that they engage in single combat until one of them cannot continue fighting. Cornered, Athena agreed.

They fought, and Ares scored many minor wounds on Athena which began to wear on her after some time. However, she managed to wound him seriously. Panicked, Ares pulled back and quickly called upon Fury’s vengeance. Fury attempted to talk Ares down, but he demanded and the cosmos called to her.

Fury, unable to turn away, brought the full force of her retribution upon Athena. Athena was promptly killed.

Ashamed of his cowardice, Ares claimed the kill. Fury took Athena’s body and brought it to the Theoi. Upon seeing that Athena was dead, and being told of what had happened, Hera quickly took sovereignty as Queen of the Theoi and officially broke the alliance between the Netjer and the Theoi, and threatened exile for any Theoi that choose to get involved from this point on.

Artemis, very much against Hera being in charge, promptly sneaked out to offer allegiance to Isis.

Trapped as he was, Sun-Bearer asked Morevuka via his shadow wolf if she would be willing to tell Star-Bringer of proceedings, as he could not do so himself. She expressed that she could not, but that she would gossip to Lisa about events and let her decide to do what she saw fit with the information. Sun-Bearer thanked her.

Visitation Rights

The Mother of the Lost had Star-Bringer broken from her communion to update her on events that had occurred. Star-Bringer’s immediate impulse was to demand her husband’s safe return. The Mother of the Lost advised her to wait where it was safe. Ignoring her advice, Star-Bringer sent a star cat to request a meeting with Isis at the Bibliotheca Consilium, which was accepted.

“As Derrick’s wife and the mother of his child, I demand that you forgo all this bullshit and return my husband to me!”

“My heart goes out to you, Sebamiewet, but I’m afraid I cannot safely do that given all that has occurred.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have broken into a peaceful negotiation and fucked it up!”

“I can understand why you’re angry, but all I knew was that Abirakhet was alone with Set. So I did what I felt necessary to keep him safe.”

“And how did you know that?”

“Eris told me.”

Star-Bringer paced. “That bitch!” Then she threw an accusing look Isis’s way. “So you didn’t think, perhaps, to not act on information from her? Have you not heard of her legends? Do you not know that listening to her never turns out well?”

“I have met her and dealt with her personally on many occasions. So yes, I know better than the legends would suggest about what to do with any information she offers! But could I risk losing Abirakhet? Would you!?”

“Could you have faith in the person you trusted to replace Ra!? How many years have you known him now!? Now please bring him here.”

Isis took a deep breath and schooled herself. “I can take you to him.”

“And I would be free to leave? With his heir? With no issue?”

“Yes.”

After taking some more time to master her anger, Star-Bringer said, “If that is the only way I will be granted permission to see the father of my child and assure myself personally of his well being, then I suppose I will accept it. For the time being. But I also have to ask, Aunt, Queen Isis… having gone through this yourself, knowing the pain of it, I question how you can willingly put another one through this.”

Isis coldly responded, “I think you have every right to question that,” and offered nothing more.

Star-Bringer proceeded from there to inform the Mother of the Lost that she would be gone for a few hours. Just as the Mother of the Lost asked if Star-Bringer would mind taking Ruben with her, Ruben knocked on the door to the Bibliotheca Consilium asking his mother what she wanted him for. Star-Bringer checked with Isis, who accepted, and agreed. They then left to gather some of Sun-Bearer’s effects and construct a hasty care package.

Upon Star-Bringer’s arrival, Sun-Bringer immediately rushed over to her and gave her a tight hug. They held each other for a while, both of them stiff and trembling with impotent anger. But Star-Bringer pulled away, calmed herself, gave him the best smile she could given the circumstances, and teased him.

“You’re out of my sight for one minute and look what happens!”

Sun-Bearer took a breath, trying to let the humor go.

She attempted to soften her joking some. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re supposed to be making plans to build a nursery.”

At this, emotion quickly overcame Sun-Bearer. He buried his face in his hands and broke down into tears.

Seeing that she wasn’t doing so good at the humor thing and at the verge of tears herself, Star-Bringer composed herself and beckoned Ruben over to present the care package. She assured her husband that she would be doing everything she could to get him out and asked him if there was something she could get for him in the meantime. There was nothing he wanted.

From there, Star-Bringer demanded of Isis how Sun-Bearer was to continue his duties and also remain safe. Isis stated that those who had been protecting him before will continue to protect him, and she has already woven her own magical protections upon him. Isis also offered to arrange regular meetings between Sun-Bearer and Star-Bringer, with Ruben continuing to act as chaperone.

(Ruben crossed his arms and said, pleased, “‘Chaperone.’ I could get used to that.”)

With her husband’s help, Star-Bringer decided that she would spend until the 18-week mark of her pregnancy (when her child could hear her voice) in communion with the stars, and then arrange for meetings after that. She asked Ruben if he would mind visiting Sun-Bearer in her stead. He did not object; and neither did Isis. Then Star-Bringer and Sun-Bearer parted with a goodbye kiss, and Star-Bringer returned to her cosmic duties.

Civil War

Set issued to Isis an ultimatum: deliver Ra’s body in a week’s time or he will kill Duamutef.

Hathor approached Set personally and appealed to him for peace. Sekhmet, who was with him at the time, grew increasingly restless and frustrated by Hathor’s plea. It was not long before she was driven to violence: she ran Hathor through with her claws. Though alive, Hathor was seriously wounded. She withdrew to safety to recover.

Isis did not deliver; Duamutef was killed and his body mutilated and destroyed, thus ensuring he could not rise again. Sun-Bearer, devastated at the wounding of Hathor and the loss of his half-brother, appealed to Isis. She explained that the four brothers had agreed to fight Set knowing they would eventually die, and so she would remain unyielding that their sacrifice would not be in vain.

Then Set issued another ultimatum: deliver Ra’s body in a month’s time, or he will kill Hapi.

Isis did not deliver; Hapi was killed and his body mutilated and destroyed, thus ensuring he could not rise again.

Then Set issued another ultimatum: deliver Ra’s body in a month’s time, or he will kill Imsety.

Isis did not deliver; Imsety was killed and his body mutilated and destroyed, thus ensuring he could not rise again.

Then Set issued another ultimatum: deliver Ra’s body in a month’s time, or he will kill Qebesuenef.

Towards the very end of that month, Ares, Phobos, Deimos, and Enyo launched an attack on Sun-Bearer as he made his way through the sky. Though he was defended staunchly by Bastet, Monthu, Maahes, and Wepwawet, they proved no match for the four war gods. They were subdued and captured, only barely managing to allow Sun-Bearer to escape.

Isis did not deliver; Qebesuenef was killed and his body mutilated and destroyed, thus ensuring he could not rise again. Set issued his next ultimatum: deliver Ra’s body or he will kill Monthu.

Once more Sun-Bearer appealed to Isis. She believed that Set was bluffing: these were powerful cosmic forces he was holding hostage, and not even he would risk disrupting the cosmos.

Desperate, Sun-Bearer came up with a plan to undercut the entire civil war.

The Sun Sets

Two weeks before the specified 18-week mark, Ruben and Angel approached Star-Bringer, breaking her once more from her communion. Angel proceeded to do a routine check-up, during which Ruben made smalltalk.

“How’d it go?”

She looked skyward. “I at least gave them a heads up… I tried to explain to them that it’d be some time before I return… I don’t know if they quite got it but they can’t say I didn’t warn them, I guess.”

“Well, it’s June 5th right now. We woke you up a little early, but Derrick asked me to deliver the news.”

After the quick check-up, Ruben and Star-Bringer proceeded to the Bibliotheca Consilium. Waiting for them was fresh, hot tea and snacks. After Star-Bringer had settled in and taken up her cup of tea, Ruben leaned forward and began.

“Now this is one hell of a bandage, so I’m gonna do what I can to rip it off quick.”

Hearing this, Star-Bringer stilled and set down her cup of tea, placing her hands on her knees.

Ruben proceeded to update her on the escalation of the Netjer civil war and describe the plan as Sun-Bearer had described to him:

Senbast, acting as a messenger, would deliver a message to Set: that Sun-Bearer would trade the Ren of his eye for the hostages and a meeting alone with Set at a time when Isis would be busy.

If Set accepted, he would propose the following:

Sun-Bearer would continue to transport Ra’s body through the sky during the day.

At sunset, he would present himself to Set to be slain, so that Set would be unquestionably in charge.

Nephthys and Anubis would take Sun-Bearer’s unmutilated body, tend it, and present it to She-Who-Hungers and the Drowned King for safekeeping.

Set would guard Ra’s body throughout the night.

At dawn, Isis would bring him back to life so that he might take over his duties anew.

This would continue until such a time as Ra rises again to make his own decisions about who will guard him.

Ruben also reported that Sun-Bearer already obtained the consent of everyone else who would be involved (except Isis and Set) and wanted to see Star-Bringer again before he acted on any of this. But only if she was confident that she could refrain from so much as mentioning anything about his plan, because there was no way for them not to be around Isis. And the sooner the better, as he didn’t have much time to carry his plan out lest Isis catch wind of it.

After pacing for some time and composing herself, Star-Bringer went to Sun-Bearer. The months had not been kind to him: the grief and helplessness weighed on his features, as well as the stress of his own plan yet to come about. First and foremost she offered him comfort — but she could not put off her concerns for long. She reached out to his mind to discuss her displeasure with his intention to bend the knee to Set. But the only suggestion she could offer was to exact some kind of equal price from him: if Sun-Bearer should die at sundown, Set should die at sunup. Sun-Bearer expressed that his bargaining position wasn’t that good, but he would see what he could do.

Before they parted, Star-Bringer requested to remain in his mind throughout this ordeal, and offered to watch in her place among the stars. He agreed to this, partially for her sake and partially for his own.

While among the stars, Star-Bringer turned from them to observe the proceedings. As she looked at the world below, she beheld Ra’s glory, beautiful and ineffable and grander than anything in the cosmos, any star in the sky. It was then she knew that he would rise and set things aright.

Unable to focus on anything but Ra in her place in the stars, Star-Bringer decided instead to shift her attention to her husband’s experience of events through their mind link.

Senbast was sent to Set; Set agreed to the initial terms.

When the meeting time came, Set summoned Sun-Bearer via the Ren of his eye. Sun-Bearer composed himself utterly, addressing Set calmly. He laid out the plan, to which Set responded:

“And how does Isis feel about this plan?”

“Isis doesn’t know.”

Set drew back in re-assessment. “This sounds too good to be true.”

Seeing his opportunity, Sun-Bearer responded, “Yes. I don’t know you. I don’t know if I can trust you at your word. If you agree to this plan, I will need some kind of assurance. Like your Ren.”

He smiled in amusement. “No, I was not asking, I was saying. Those are my terms.”

He tilted his head. “So you will accept this arrangement?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Let us get our affairs in order and meet in Meten-Khai-Ra proper at dusk, then. Bring witnesses. I will be doing the same.”

At that, Sun-Bearer ensured everything was in place and returned to Isis’s demense and awaited her return. Once more he drew about himself the mantle of calm composure and as much of an air of authority as he could. When she arrived, he approached her and informed her of the plan and her place in the plan, allowing no room for negotiation.

Through Sun-Bearer’s eye, Isis had drawn the stars about her entirely, making her utterly unreadable. But from Star-Bringer’s place, she roiled with energy so strongly that she managed to draw some attention away from Ra.

“How do you propose to meet with Set in this fashion when you are bound here?”

“If you do not cooperate, I have given Set the Ren of my eye.”

At this, a burst of energy lashed out like a solar flare. The stars drew back from Isis’s face, revealing utter anger. “You fool! You don’t understand the cost of your bullheaded defiance!”

He waited calmly for her to settle before saying, “Do you have anything else to say?”

At this Isis drew back, still furious, but stunned and lacking words.

“Then you will get Ra’s body and accompany me to Meten-Khai-Ra proper, where the transfer will proceed without any interference.”

Immediately she settled, becoming cold and unreadable. The stars clustered around her once more. She crossed by Sun-Bearer and went to retrieve Ra’s body.

Together, they proceeded to Meten-Khai-Ra proper, where Nephthys, Anubis, She-Who-Hungers, and the Drowned King were waiting. Set was there as well, with his supporters standing back. Others began to gather around, drawn to this fateful meeting. Sun-Bearer addressed the gathering crowd, informing them of the arrangement he’d come to with Set and Isis so as to end the civil war. Then he facilitated the transfer of Ra’s body and the return of the hostages. Finally, he stepped forth to meet Set.

It was then that Star-Bringer turned back to the stars, unable to bear watching her husband die, not trusting herself not to do something about it.

Set reached for Sun-Bearer, and then, with a sharp jerk of his hands, the mind link was severed.

When she turned back, Set had taken up Ra’s body as Nephthys and Anubis had begun to wash Sun-Bearer’s. His body was safely transferred to She-Who-Hungers and the Drowned King, and they began their return to the Castle Under the Sea.

After she had composed herself, Star-Bringer went to the Castle Under the Sea. Through She-Who-Hungers’s eyes, she was able to behold Sun-Bearer’s soul. She spent the entire night there, and the entire second night, before returning to the stars.

Disowned

Glutted on victory, Ares returned to the Theoi with Phobos, Deimos, and Enyo, expecting that a place would be waiting for him there. Hera turned him out, firmly reiterating her decree. Stunned, betrayed, and hurt, Ares and his children left in search of Zeus.

Is It Over Yet?

Shortly after the resolution of the Netjer civil war, Morevuka notified Ken of the events that had occurred. He and Ginger returned to Bakersfield to check in on Star-Bringer to offer morale support. However, as they talked to her, Ginger grew increasingly upset and agitated. Star-Bringer extended empathy and support — and Ginger, realizing that her emoting wasn’t just being allowed a space, calmed herself down and offered Star-Bringer support instead.

After that, Ken asked Ginger if she wanted to go to the Castle Under the Sea to check in on Sun-Bearer. She took him up on it right away. With help from She-Who-Hungers, Ginger was able to look upon Sun-Bearer and talk with him directly. Realizing that death wasn’t the end, Ginger calmed considerably.

Having become increasingly more aware that the paths were incessantly calling to him and having already brought as many Earth folks to Bakersfield, Ken decided to tie up loose ends and continue on his eternal journey. He discussed with Ginger what she’ll do with herself while he’s gone. She expressed that she didn’t really know — and asked him for advice how to find out. Ken helped her develop a network and support structure so that she’ll know who to ask for things to do.

Once figuring out how to structure her life, Ginger approached Star-Bringer and offered to babysit for her after the baby was born. Touched, Star-Bringer accepted and extended an invitation to her to come over whenever she likes.

It’s A Boy!

On November 7th, 2033 at 4:55 PM, Westley Alexander Sultan was born in the Bibliotheca Consilium. He was 19.76 inches in length, weighed 8 lb 3 oz, and had two eyes, a nose, a mouth, four limbs, ten fingers, and ten toes.

Baby Fever

Five months after Wes’s birth, Resolve and Rose Thorn Child talked to the Found at family dinner about starting a family of their own. They were met all around by sass and support (and a little bit of excited gushing). A few months later, after consulting with the Teotl and getting their resources and structure squared away, they took the plunge and got pregnant.

Dry Eye and Head Held High

Frigg returned from her quest in search of tears for her son utterly defeated. A giantess had refused to cry for Baldur, completely destroying any chance of his return. Hod was sentenced to execution and Loki was sentenced to imprisonment and torture. Odin turned Loki’s young twin sons on each other and bound Loki by their entrails and suspended a snake above his face so that its venom would leak into his eyes.

Eventually Sigyn came by with a bowl to catch the venom, but prior to that Loki thrashed in agony, causing violent earthquakes.

Morevuka carefully gossiped (and did NOT offer intel) about this turn of events to Ken, who set a course for Loki right away.

How the Mighty Fall

One day, a black meteor fell out of the sky and crashed just outside of Bakersfield, causing an earthquake. A rain of blood followed it.

Black Sun rose from the crater, severely wounded, and snarled at the sky before disappearing.

Ruben and Resolve appeared not long after. After some quick discussion, Ruben volunteered to seek out Black Sun, and told Resolve to stay home. She reluctantly agreed. He reported in to the Mother of the Lost briefly, grabbed Hector, and started off to go find where the mad god had gone.

The Proposal

Huitzilopochtli, restored to his place as the Fifth Sun and King of the Teotl, approached the Mother of the Lost to begin negotiations for La Dama’s hand in marriage, offering a large bride price.

Though La Dama and Huitzilopochtli had been raising Summer and Leliana together and seeing each other for four years, nothing had been mentioned to the Mother of the Lost about marriage. She relayed the message to La Dama, who was caught utterly off-guard and very uncertain and uneasy about the suddenness of this proposal. The Mother of the Lost told Huitzilopochtli to come back later after La Dama had a chance to process and come to a decision. Huitzilopochtli accepted this as a matter of course and left.

He returned the next day with a larger bride price. Once more the Mother of the Lost put him off; and he returned the next day with an even larger bride price.

La Dama decided to take it upon herself to discuss this with Huitzilopochtli. However, while she tried to work out whether or not marriage was right for them, he would not speak of anything except the bride price. They both only grew angrier and angrier at each other; and La Dama was getting more and more alarmed at his sudden forcefulness. Finally, La Dama broke off the relationship.

Enraged, Huitzilopochtli rose his hand as if to strike her. Summer, having been drawn to the argument, jumped in between Huitzilopochtli and her mother. Resolve, sensing that Summer was in danger, moved the earth to get to her and saw Huitzilopochtli poised to strike.

He stopped himself, but Resolve promptly took La Dama, Summer, and Leliana back to the Mother of the Lost. There they stayed; and La Dama decided for her and her daughters’ safety to never return to Acopa while Huitzilopochtli was in charge. Resolve decided to stay with them for an indefinite period of time.

Later, after Star-Bringer was broken of her communion of the stars, she expressed sympathy to La Dama but was glad for the company.

Tooth and Nail

Galen approached the Mother of the Lost, expressing that he felt strongly that she needed him for something. She instructed him to wait at a specific spot outside of Bakersfield because Ruben was going to return. He did so immediately, without questioning.

Early that evening, Ruben did indeed return, mortally wounded, his entrails spilling through his hands. Galen wasted no time in taking him to Angel for healing; Ruben told him to call for a family meeting pronto.

That night, the Found gathered in the dinner hall and Ruben reported what had happened.

He had in fact found Black Sun: he had created a den of darkness and madness to sit and seethe and plan. By the time Ruben got to him, he was conferring with Malinalxochitl about waging war on Huitzilopochtli. They reached an accord — Malinalxochitl had spent a long time carefully gathering resources and an army to do just that, and Black Sun had a great deal of power himself.

After Malinalxochitl left, Ruben attempted to talk to Black Sun, to appeal to the Alejo in him, so that he might turn away from this course of action. At this, Black Sun grew enraged and attacked Ruben. He managed to barely escape with his life and began to limp home to inform everyone else of what had occurred.

However, on his way home, Hector saw that he was mortally wounded and bided his time until it looked as if Ruben would collapse. Then he took the opportunity to try and kill him. Ruben was forced to kill Hector and had to drag himself the rest of the way home.

After giving his report, Ruben stated that he’d be returning to Black Sun as soon as possible after cramming his face full of food.

Throughout all this, Resolve listened silently, stonefaced. When Ruben stated his intention to leave, she spoke up.

“I’m going with you.”

He merely accepted this with a nod and began to stuff his face.

At Resolve’s resolution, Star-Bringer grew trepidatious. But she swallowed her concerns. “Will you be staying with him too?”

“If I need to.” She paused, staring at the table. “He needs help, you know?”

“Did… did you want me to come with you?”

“No. You should stay here.”

As if on cue, Wes took the opportunity to babble.

Star-Bringer reluctantly acknowledged she was right and quickly made some weapons for Ruben from Hector’s remains and gathered a pair of lucky stars for the two of them.

After Resolve and Ruben left, Star-Bringer went to Lady Baker in regards to protecting and evacuating the people of Bakersfield should they be caught in the crossfire of the fight between Huitzilopochtli and his daughter. Lady Baker assured her that she would take the appropriate measures.

The End Times

As Ken traversed the World, he found it inhospitably cold, torn by earthquakes and thoroughly destructive natural disasters back-to-back. All those who had remained behind were now dead, and even the fearsome beasts that had populated the World were now at the mercy of the forces of nature.

Fire giants swarmed from Muspelheim, their armies gathering on the frozen ground of Earth.

The Aesir, knowing their time had come, began to mobilize.

In Bakersfield and Maciticaaltepetl, the sky began to rain blood and gore and body parts throughout the day.

Bond Busting

Realizing that more time had passed than he’d initially thought, Ken stopped his journey in Muspelheim and asked Morevuka to relay to Yesen that he would be sleeping. Morevuka did so, and Ken curled up in a cozy place.

His dreams were of sheep, vast meadows of countless sheep. (Also it was unclear if the meadows themselves were not also sheep.) He settled in and waited.

Sure enough, Yesen appeared in her shining cloak, approaching Ken. For a moment he was struck by how much she’d grown since he’d last seen her.

“You’re supposed to count them before you fall asleep.”

“Oh, you know, before, after…”

She smiled. “It’s all a matter of how you look at it?”

“See, you learned!”

Yesen leaned against a sheep. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I want to break the rules. And I could use some help.”

A fire sparked in Yesen’s eyes. “Which rules?”

Ken asked Yesen to bring Loki to him. Yesen agreed, telling him to stay put. She went to Sigyn and instructed her to empty out her bowl of venom so that Loki could sleep, for she would guide him to speak to Ken.

Not long after, Loki, guided by Yesen, approached, looking resigned and broken.

“Vindlerson. What do you want from me?”

“I want to break you out.”

“Why? I’m an oathbreaker. I earned this.”

“Which oath did you break?”

“I am responsible for Baldur’s death.”

“Why did you kill Baldur?”

“Envy, I suppose. He has done nothing, proven nothing of himself, and yet everyone adores him. Everyone and everything had sworn oaths to him never to harm him just for the asking. And yet I have stood by my oaths time and again, have stood by my sworn brother Odin, only to have the shit kicked out of me every time something goes wrong.”

“And what was your punishment?”

“I was to watch as my sons tore each other apart before me, and then bound by their innards. A snake was suspended over my face to drip venom into my eyes. It’s only because of Sigyn that I can speak with you now.”

“So, in response to you breaking your oath by killing Baldur, both of your sons were killed and you’ve been imprisoned by their parts and are being slowly tortured.”

“… Yes.”

“How long is your sentence?”

He was silent a moment. “I don’t know. Probably for eternity.”

“Well. I’m sure Odin knows what he’s doing.”

For a long moment, Loki was silent, wrestling with himself. “Why are you doing this, Vindlerson?”

“Because no one deserves to be imprisoned and tortured. And everyone ought to have a brother.”

Loki’s deadened expression broke briefly at that, tears gathering in his eyes. But he swallowed all that back and thought for a long time. And then he spoke. “Free me, then.” He regarded Ken directly. “Let’s see what happens.”

At this, Yesen guided Loki from Ken’s dream. Ken woke up and went to the Mother of the Lost, asking about how to break all the bonds that can possibly bind a person. The Mother of the Lost expressed that she didn’t have access to that kind of information. So, instead, Ken went to Athena’s spirit in Hades. She welcomed him and invited him to play a game of Go.

“I intend to break all the bonds that exist in the cosmos. Where would I start?”

She thought a moment. “I’m not sure. Why would you come to me about this?”

“Because you’re a lot smarter than I am and you said you’d grant me a favor, no questions asked. You get that last one for free, though.”

She took a long breath, making a few moves on the Go board and thinking. “The only way I can think of is to go to the Fates and cut all the threads.”

“You think they would be amenable to the idea?”

“Doubtful. They’ve been working on their tapestry since the beginning of time.”

“Hm. Let’s start smaller, then. What can I do to free Loki of his bonds?”

“The hardest part will be convincing him to break the bonds of his oath. The rest will just be, to put it crassly, cutting through gristle.”

“Thank you.”

Ken waited until he’d lost the game of Go, bid farewell, and then went to Loki to cut through his son’s entrails. Yesen had been waiting there for him, chatting with the two of them casually. Ken checked one last time to make sure that Loki was consenting to his bonds being broken. With a fire in his eyes (that wasn’t from the venom) he confirmed.

Thus freed, Loki shapeshifted and left. Sigyn, stunned, uncertain of what to do, asked Ken to take care of the bowl of venom for her. He agreed, and she went off to find her husband. Ken turned to Yesen and asked if she thought it was safe to maybe dump it in the river, thought twice, and left the bowl on a nearby rock. Then Ken thanked Yesen and the two of them departed, going their separate ways.

Yesen offered a bow to Svarozhich. When she straightened, she said, “Lord Father Svarozhich. I have just returned from freeing Loki from his prison.”

The Lord Father stared at her, took a few breaths, chose to let a great deal of things remain unsaid, and sent a brief glare Svantovit’s way. “You realize what this means.”

She tilted her chin up. “Why don’t you tell me?”

He stared at her again and then said, “Not only is this an infraction, it is… major. You have threatened our position, and you have done so with our ancient foe.” He paused, looking between Svantovit and Prove, both of whom were utterly silent, either choosing to say nothing or not knowing what to say. “The only recourse is to order your execution.”

Yesen bowed once more and looked the Lord Father straight in the face with unflinching defiance in her eyes.

“Dobrozhe. The hammer.”

Stonefaced, Dobrozhe looked to his father and summoned The Lady between his hands. She blazed, hungry.

He rubbed his temples, looked at Yesen, and said, “Do you have any final words?”

She said nothing.

Svarozhich ordered Yesen to kneel, which she did, and then ordered Dobrozhe forward and gave him a nod. Dobrozhe, completely unreadable, touched the head of his hammer to the back of Yesen’s head. He held it there, perhaps a moment to long in hesitation, took a deep breath, swung up, and brought the hammer down.

There was a flash, a bang…

And then there was a seed on the ground. Yesen was still there, kneeling before it as she had been.

Svarozhich stepped off his throne, stooped, and picked up the seed. After examining it and looking to Yesen, he took a deep breath and his shoulders dropped. He glanced at Svantovit. “Well, Lord Svantovit, it seems we have a much more immediate issue at hand.”

“Yes. Yes, I would say so, my Lord.”

“Well then.” He regarded the lawbreaker. “Lady Yesen, we need to plant this seed.”

She rose, staring directly at him, ‘Are you fucking kidding me’ written all over her face. However, instead she said, almost snarling, “As you say, Lord Father Svarozhich.”

“Being as this came from you, we will need your help. Where should we plant this?”

For a long time or a short time, Svarozhich was in counsel with Yesen. And then they began planting and tending to the Seed of the World Tree.

(On the next Emotion-Having Tuesday, Dobrozhe hugged Yesen tight and cried for a long while.)

What a Tangled Web We Weave

Morevuka, Dobrozhe, Mokosits, Yesen, and Svarozhich worked together to grow the new World Tree.

The fire giants finished gathering their armies and began mobilizing them.

Huitzilopochtli and the Teotl fought Malinalxochitl day after day, neither winning nor losing. Every day it came to single combat between Huitzilopochtli and Malinalxochitl, wherein he would fight her off just to the point of death; and she would return the next day fully healed and filled with ever more wrath.

The people of Bakersfield and the surrounding city-states and settlements and territories began to realize that each of their calendars were doing strange things. Though the strangeness varied, one thing remained the same: it would always be December, even well after December should have ended.

Summer and Leliana, still seething at Huitzilopochtli, traveled alone to Acopa. There they met, by chance, Lance’s spirit. He wasn’t happy either. Together they conferred, and enacted a plan to steal Huitzilopochtli’s sandals.

The Aesir fought the fire giants. Odin was swallowed by Fenris, who was thereby slain by Vidar, and Frigg endured her second great sorrow. Thor fought Jormungandr for nine days and nine nights, and took nine steps from Jormungandr’s body before succumbing to poison. Tyr and Garm fought, killing each other. Heimdall confronted Loki, and they slew one another. Freyr fought Surtr fiercely and lost. Thrud, Hallvardr, Bragi, and Uller were also lost, fighting fiercely and falling under fire giant weapons.

The World Tree had sprouted just enough to be springy and strong. It was called Aspen.

Star-Bringer was summoned from her place in the stars.

And Ken found the Fates. There he saw that their tapestry had become irrevocably tangled. He confered with them as to what would happen if the Fates cut all the threads. They admitted they didn’t know. He asked them when they would’ve finished their tapestry otherwise. They admitted they didn’t know. Ken suggested that maybe they should call this one done. Clotho and Lachesis looked to Atropos. She thought for a long moment and then decisively picked up her scissors…

Right before dawn, Summer and Leliana returned to La Dama and handed her a pair of worn sandals. La Dama knew these sandals well. Stunned and not knowing what to say, she looked to her daughters. Summer crossed her arms and Leliana leaned against the nearby wall, both thoroughly convicted in their course of action. And then La Dama drew them close, hugging them and crying.

Huitzilopochtli searched his house for his sandals. He only found the pair that he’d never worn. He took apart his entire home looking for his old sandals, but what he’d suspected only grew more and more certain the closer dawn approached. Given no other recourse, he quietly put on his new sandals and started his course through the sky.

Malinalxochitl challenged him as before. He accepted in silence, fighting her without emotion. In short order he defeated and killed her. Then he took up her body, continuing his course through the sky. That evening, when he returned to Acopa, he laid her body out before the rest of the Teotl and wordlessly turned and walked away, beginning the long journey to return to his mother in shame.

Shiva stepped out to begin dancing.

Ra stirred.

Zeus returned, Ares, Phobos, Deimos, and Enyo at his side.

The various governing bodies of the Cities of the New World had arranged an International Conference for Matters Concerning the Calendar.

Star-Bringer

Even throughout the battle at the Rift, the stars clamored loudly for Star-Bringer’s attention, seeking to divulge unto her their histories. Alarmed, she sought counsel from Isis. Isis took her aside, touched a star, and advised Sanura to listen. It immediately spoke with a clearer, louder “voice” to Sanura:

One day —

And then Isis touched her on the shoulder. Dawn was rising — hours had passed. She confirmed that she was paying attention to the star too, but it did not “speak” to her as it did to Sanura. This, however, is not unusual, as Hathor has a different experience of the stars than Isis does (as an aside, she recommended Star-Bringer speak also to Hathor about this). She suggested that perhaps these stars are so loud right now because Star-Bringer was only just now starting to listen. Finally, she impressed upon Star-Bringer that it’s of utmost importance to listen to the stars as this is her purpose in the universe — however, it’s not urgent, and it’s as important to ensure that she doesn’t get lost in the cosmos.

Taking Isis’s advice, Star-Bringer sought Hathor with more questions, particularly if the stars could be hurried in their tale-telling. Hathor told her that yes, they could, but to do so would be to change the stars which would change the cosmos and incur a reaction to harmonize with it which would be unpredictable. She, too, urged Sanura to listen to the stars, but also to spend time away from that so she will not be lost.

Digesting this, Star-Bringer proceeded from there to confer with Ken and offer her the same warnings that Isis and Hathor did, check on the gods, and check on the Found.

From there she arranged for herself a star-sabbatical immediately following her wedding and honeymoon, told her loved ones to “wake” her if they need her or if something important happens, and asked Morevuka to keep an eye on her. After settling in for some good star-listening, she singled out Sopdet/Sirius. The much abridged version of Sopdet’s account follows:

One day I existed. I felt [the others] around me. [We reached for each other.] Far away, a star died.

And then Sun-Bearer awakened Star-Bringer to inform her that Rose Thorn Child and Resolve were getting married four months hence and asking if she’d like to be invited. It turned out to have been almost a year since Star-Bringer had sat down for her starbbatical.

Seizing the opportunity, she caught up with her husband. (He missed her dearly, but was otherwise very happy.) Afterwards she sought Morevuka for information about what had happened while she was gone. She made clothes for Sigyn’s twins and Lake Isabella’s triplets, and an “official guide” vest and badge for Ginger. She also sought Sun-Bearer about her troubles with Lady Baker becoming one with Bakersfield and whether or not it had been her choice. The answers were inconclusive, and what they could do about it less clear. From there she checked in on Senbast, the Found, Quipatlatl’s family, and the Foundlings. Upon discovering that Jeff and Abel were the primary caretakers of Leliana and Summer, she attempted to impress upon them the importance of early childhood education and attempted to teach them how to do it. She also praised them for their courage and dependability.

Once all matters had been squared away to her satisfaction, she expressed that she planned to return to listening to the stars — however, not only did she want to be woken again for the wedding and any births in the family, but she wanted to be woken every six months.

Some time following the wedding Sanura was once more awakened. She took a week off to spend with her husband and her family.

The next time Star-Bringer returned, she saw that she missed out on a great deal of events going on in the Foundlings’ lives. Moreover, it was clear that six months was too long for Sun-Bearer to go without her if they were only going to have less than a week together. After discussing further the right balance to strike with Isis and Hathor, Star-Bringer decided to alternate every three months.

Given all that time, Star-Bringer decided to busy herself with crafting once more. She sought to reverse engineer Daedalus’s crafting table as she remembered it when it was in Bear’s possession. As she did so, the memory came easily and the plans came quickly. It all seemed to be easily within her grasp — every moment she spent was one which moved her project forward, and she saw the future steps and goals with a clarity she’d never experienced before.

And then Sun-Bearer worriedly snapped her out of her trance. She had spent two weeks nonstop working on the project. Immediately Star-Bringer shelved it, terrified that she would lose more time if she kept going (and, indeed, it tempted her deeply). Instead, she spoke to the workers at the shop about making them all new uniforms — and they agreed wholeheartedly that they would love new uniforms. That idle project occupied the rest of her time off.

The next time she spent away from the stars she decided to continue with Bear’s big project: making a book capable of housing all the collected knowledge of the cosmos for Thoth. She strictly alotted three days a week, from dawn to dusk, to work on the project, asking her husband to break her from her trance when he returned home from his duties as the sun. It was challenging for her, as it felt as if the project was drawn out almost unnecessarily, but she adhered to her schedule. Star-Bringer spent the rest of the time catching up with the rest of the Found, checking in on the Netjer, and spending quality time with Sun-Bearer.

Ken

The paths that unfurled beneath Ken’s feet were as insistent as ever — but not nearly as much as the path to the rift had been. Ken contemplated this briefly, but decided to tend to some more immediate matters before pursuing them.

Following the battle at the Rift, Ken gave the holes in the sky and his memory loop one last look-over. Deeming them stable, he checked on the Mother of the Lost. After ensuring her safety and sanity, he proceeded from there to check on Maciticaaltepetl. He found there some devastation — and nearby was a great gorge filled with water pouring from Kahele’s wounds. The wounds appeared to be caused by a machete. Blood clouded the water, coming from the bodies of Roger and Kahele’s whale spirit companion.

Ken sought Xelhua for answers, and found him bearing similar machete wounds as Kahele. Xelhua explained that after Los Angeles and Baltimore were united, a hole tore in the sky and Alejandra immediately left to fight off the monsters that were pouring out. He does not understand why anything happened as it did, but he described it: Rogers attempted to take sovereignty over the city and violently responded to any naysayers (as Xelhua’s wounds can attest). Javid stepped in and was immediatley struck down. Thereby Kahele seized Rogers and wrangled him out of the city wherein they fought to the death.

Given all that happened, Ken asked if there was any way he could help. Xelhua requested that he bring Alejandra back to the city. This was done, and Xelhua repeated his report for his wife’s benefit.

Having done what was asked of him, Ken reported to Morevuka and then went to the Drowned King, She-Who-Hungers, the Swan Maiden, and Angel and told them of his experiences and that he planned on following these paths indefinitely. (He’d assumed — rightfully so — that the message would spread to the others.) The Swan Maiden reminded him about Star-Bringer’s and Sun-Bearer’s wedding, and Ken eventually agreed with some consternation to stick around just long enough for that.

Given that time, Ken paid a visit to the Bogovi, met Triglav, and asked Yesen if she was experiencing something similar to him. She was. Nothing more was said.

He also checked on Ginger and her family one last time.

Exploring the paths took him to many a place but not many an event or person. But once explored they became less insistent, or became less insistent with the passing of time.

About eight months into his journey he came across a small subterranean town in South Dakota, wherein he discovered that his youngest daughter (now in her sixties), Diana, had survived the apocalypse and helped this community thrive. After getting to know this town and its people, he asked if they wished to be moved somewhere with fewer monsters and natural disasters. They all readily agreed — and their home was shifted to some ways outside of Bakersfield, wherein they could surface without fear.

Once he’d given her the tour, he decided to spend a month or so around town, catching up and helping out.

After learning about Captain Maria’s task, he arranged with her a magical oath that would allow her to forever have Ken’s protection and his ear — even when he is not there his power will shield her and steady her and give her strength. He also guided her through the process of setting up a similar oath so that she can share this protection to those she deems worthy.

Ginger asked Ken about getting superpowers. He asked her why she wanted superpowers — to which she expressed a desire to go everywhere and do everything. They got into a discussion about power and responsibility; and afterwards Ken arranged for Ginger to be Diana’s official guide around Bakersfield, Domochlovek, Caer Ùir, and then some. This brought no small amount of excitement to Ginger.

Eventually, Ken left again, expressing that he’d try to be back by December.

On his travels he found himself stopping in Monowi, Nebraska for a week. He met Elsie Eiler, who was still maintaining the city singlehandedly, and befriended her. Before he left he offered to take her to Bakersfield, an offer which she politely declined. He also found himself in the Titanrealm, traveling in endless sky. Luckily he managed to navigate it without attracting the attention of any Titans or titanspawn.

He continued on his journey, returning to Bakersfield once every so often when a path led him there, and lending a hand there where he could. He didn’t notice when Ginger and Coyote’s children successfully managed some mischief…

Morevuka

Following the Rift battle, Morevuka coordinated clean-up: she got the Mother of the Lost out of Extremity, informed her about the dragon’s request to see her, and checked in on everyone. From there she left food out for Mokosits, started practicing not being a goddess, caught up with the Mother of the Lost, and met her honored nephew Triglav.

A feeling like when she sought the moist, dark earth had overcome her, being a constant, distracting presence despite it having nothing to tell her (and yet somehow everything). Around her the shadows moved with her every movement, as a pack travels. Though they were not insistent, when she was still and listening an odd tension left the various connections.

She consulted Mokosh about this feeling. The normally talkative goddess simply listened and then drew her out into her garden, urging her to at least take off her boots and socks so that the soil might connect with her skin. Together they sat together, simply listening, for half the day. Finally, Mokosh interrupted their reverie to tell Morevuka that taking the time to be still and part of this was important, but perhaps not always urgent due to its prevalence.

Morevuka then consulted her siblings about their experiences. Yesen reported a feeling of being beckoned by the dreams, constantly, and some more insistently than others. She also described a place that was between, as if it were a veil over the “real world.” There things are more distinct, more powerful, and yet more distant. Dobrozhe described a sensation of constant burning — not of burning skin, necessarily, and not painful, but very hot. He said that he burned on the outside during the day and on the inside at night. The burning wants to reach — and when he reaches with it he is returned with images and impressions. Sometimes the events are so clear that it’s as if he’s living them in that moment.

With the help of her siblings, they arranged Power Practice Wednesdays (to follow Emotion-Having Tuesdays) and a daily morning meditation.

Morevuka then proceeded to rescuing all the pantheons. Occasionally she quietly checked to ensure Fury was alive and well.

The change with Jarilo and Morena alarmed Morevuka. She consulted the dark earth: it told her that these changes were occurring because Sweeping Day was coming and, moreover, Yesen, Dobrozhe, Morevuka, and Mokosits were all proponents of this sort of change simply by existing. Morevuka accepted this in her quiet way.

From there she continued her checkup on everyone and made sure that Lady Baker understood that she could use her for intel or interference if needed.

The Found

Star-Bringer and Sun-Bearer were wed at Danmairge, the Swan Maiden’s blessed festhall. There were no attacks and there was much sappiness. Thereafter they spent a week honeymooning at the house Sun-Bearer built singlehandedly for the two of them.

The Drowned King and She-Who-Hungers were approached by the titaness Enodia (and her young son Opheodis, and her legion of tritons), who was delighted to have someone to speak to. She expressed a desire to stay nearby permanently. Lir was displeased with Enodia encroaching on his territory; therefore, with the consent of the Drowned King and She-Who-Hungers, Enodia pulled Caer Ùir and all its inhabitants into a pocket of the Titanrealm. They, all the spirits of the dead, and the various psychopomps and guardians now enjoy her permanent protection.

After being approached by her sister about Mokosits, the Swan Maiden tracked him down. Some humorous deflection and hurt feelings and contrition later, Mokosits explained his experience with Svarog. The Swan Maiden listened, and then offered him a permanent place in Danmairge.

Lake Isabella gave birth to triplets: Fox, Beaver Kit, and Trout Boy.

The four suns (Black Sun, Sun-Bearer, Sasha!, and Angel) collided, sending forth a blinding flash and then descending the world into darkness. Svantovit and the Mother of the Lost were already at the site of the crash, whereby the Mother of the Lost proclaimed that each of the four suns would take turns season-by-season on the Bakersfield route. Black Sun was given summer, Sun-Bearer autumn, Sasha! winter, and Angel spring.

The Mother of the Lost apologized to each of her children for forcefully ascending them. Deep communication and expressions of very mixed, complicated feelings ensued. (For most of them, anyway. The Drowned King expressed that he no longer trusted the Mother of the Lost and expressed a desire for space.)

The Foundlings

Galen kinda unofficially moved in with Aphrodite and the Theoi (though he proceeded to spend a couple nights a week at home with Jeff, Abel, Leliana, Summer, Senbast, and Leanne). Eventually, Athena quietly charged him with petitioning Triton to house Adonis. Triton accepted.

Some time after the rift, Leanne attempted to approach Mokosits about continuing her lessons. He avoided her. Hurt, she relayed this to the Swan Maiden.

Gianna was hospitalized due to gang violence. She spent some time in critical condition. Though she eventually recovered, her mobility was somewhat restricted. This gave Ginger a great deal more freedom.

Senbast went on another trance quest, accompanied by Leanne, Ginger, and Crook.

Leanne and Ginger began hanging out a lot more.

Fox, Beaver Kit, and Trout Boy began causing mischief. Ginger came across them in the midst of this and joined in on the fun. Afterwards, she approached Lake Isabella about becoming a babysitter for her children.

Ruben continued warrior training and continued attending what family events he could manage.

Summer and Leliana, merely 5 and 4 respectively, slipped away from Jeff and Abel unnoticed. Somehow they made their way out of Bakersfield and crossed the badlands without coming to harm. Together, they made their way from where the Earth Meets the Sky to Acopa and proceeded to La Dama’s dwelling. La Dama brought them back promptly. Of course, they only turned around and did it again a few days later. Soon enough, another arrangement for their custody was reached: La Dama would have them throughout the week and Jeff and Abel would have them on the weekends.

With help from Beaver Kit, Fox, and Trout Boy, Ginger managed to sneakily gain superpowers from Ken. She proceeded to use her superpowers to elude Gianna more easily and visit all the places she’d wanted to visit, all while somehow managing to fly under the radar. Perhaps something about minor outbreaks of chaos occurring wherever she passed would have something to do with it…

On his 15th birthday, Ruben completed warrior training and returned home. A party was thrown for him, and he took the opportunity to rest and enjoy his freedom. This quickly turned stale, however, as he realized that everyone in his family had parted ways…

The Bogovi

After ensuring the safety of Bakersfield, Mokosits returned to solitude, albeit more as a man than anything else. After some time and space, Mokosh tracked him down and asked him what was wrong. He gave in (like a sucker) and told her. Lots of hugs ensued; and then afterwards Mokosh retired to her sauna to have a good, private (more or less) cry.

Triglav was restored to his place among the gods, much to Morena’s (and Mokosh’s) satisfaction.

Alongside Triglav, Pizamar conducted a semi-official welcoming ceremony to Dobrozhe, Yesen, and Morevuka. Stribog did not attend, but otherwise did not protest. There were no other objections, although some did not approve of the bold political statement this made.

Come late summer and autumn, Jarilo oddly did not begin to stray from fidelity to his wife. Subsequently, Morena did not slaughter him in winter. To solve the problem of a lack of winter, Yesen drew Jarilo to a long slumber and then suggested that Morena cover him in a blanket of snow. She complied.

The Tuatha

A solemn funeral procession was had for Midir. The dark mood began to pervade the Tuatha as the reality of their impending doom faced them. It was not long thereafter that they returning to training.

After some consideration, the Dagda gifted the lone remaining Treasure of the Tuatha, the Undry Cauldron, to Meadhbhín in recognition of her fantastic deeds of hospitality and commemoration of her hard work in restoring her Enech. It was a feature at the wedding of Sorcha and Ducarius — all were full to bursting and still the cauldron did not empty.

The Netjer

At Monthu’s invitation, Abirakhet began regular hunting and sporting with his half-brothers and Monthu, Maahes, and Wepwawet. This ended up being a source of great happiness to Abirakhet.

The Teotl

Given the deeds of those who were involved in containing the tear in the sky’s foul creatures, Tlilocelotlpilli had no choice but to award honors and nobility to all participants, including his ward Necalli, his half-sister Quipatlatl, and Ezmamacateotl.

Quipatlatl’s eldest daughter, Eluia, was given unto Tlazolteotl so as to receive proper instruction as to what was expected of her as the child of a noblewoman.

Huitzilopochtli mounted another attack on Tlilocelotlpilli after he’d crashed from the sky. Crippled as he was (for Tlilocelotlpilli had decreed that he remain thus), however, he was yet unable to defeate Tlilocelotlpilli. Thereafter he was punished to be left with two debilitating wounds daily.

Mahquipia, accompanied by Ichtacahuazinatl, sought her father for permission to ask Ezmamacateotl’s hand in marriage; even as Ezmamacateotl sought the Mother of the Lost to being negotiations for Mahquipia’s hand in marriage. Though Tlilocelotlpilli initially refused, when Ichtacahuazinatl made clear that he had no good reason to deny his daughter such a politically advantageous marriage Tlilocelotlpilli gave in. Negotiations ensued between the Mother of the Lost and Xochiquetzal (acting as a proxy for Xipe Totec), with Centeotl and Tlazolteotl as cultural intermediaries. The marriage was approved and held in the growing season.

Centeotl and Xilonen bore a daughter who was called Tlacotl.

Upon Necalli’s completion of warrior training, Huitzilopochtli found himself without any duties, and unable to seek new ones due to his daily alottment of two crippling wounds. However, he saw that Ichtacahuazinatl’s daughters were stubbornly risking life and limb to get to her. He persuaded her to allow them to stay — and when she expressed trepidation about balancing her cosmic duties with caring for children, he offered to watch them for her. Later, he became a sounding board and occasionally offered advice on finding her equilibrium.

Some time after Huitzilopochtli became a regular fixture around Ichtacahuazinatl’s house, Tlazolteotl approached her daughter and expressed her trepidation at the political and social statements this arrangement made. Although Ichtacahuazinatl heeded her, it was not enough for her to want to change anything — and clearly the same was true for Huitzilopochtli.

The Aesir

Bolstered by the battle against the chaosbeasts, the Aesir warriors began training anew for Ragnarok.

Eight months following the rift battle, Sigyn bore twin boys.

Thor stumbled upon the Dagda during his training regimen. They got in a series of competitions as to who was the better warrior. After much hauling, hurling, wrestling, insulting, and out-and-out brawling, they came away utterly delighted and started meeting up to do it all over again. On a regular basis.

Nanna could not hold off her deep depression, pining deeply for Baldur.

Though Frigg sees all but says nothing, the Aesir took heart for she seemed to be taking for granted that one day Odin and Baldur would return.

The Theoi

Triton attempted reconciliation with Athena. It went off to a promising start.

Aphrodite, fearing Ares’s jealous wrath, sought legal protection for Adonis via Athena. Despite Athena informing her that she could not grant it, Eris went to Persephone of this development. Persephone demanded Athena uphold her custody rights of Adonis. Thereby Athena commissioned Galene to go to Triton for help. Luckily Triton agreed to extend his protection and hospitality to Adonis — anyone wishing to see him must be approved and supervised by Triton’s discretion.

Athena, observing the friendly competition between the Dagda and Thor, went to each of the provisional heads of pantheons and, with their help, organized a god-Olympics. She arranged a series of war-related events and made a wager with Ares that he couldn’t win half of them.

Aphrodite gave birth to a baby girl whom she named Euthalia. Ares bitterly proceeded to pick on Hephaestus for being a cuckold yet again.

Bakersfield

Some months after the Rift, tales of organized groups of bandits and monsters harrying the fledgling settlements and outer reaches of Bakersfield reached Captain Maria Jiminez’s ears. She immediately began to organize a guide/guard escort for travelers, and doubled posts and milita for the places suffering from these attacks. She was approached by Ken, who approved of her actions, and helped her formalize this organization, binding them all to a magic oath that charged them to serve and protect.

Word of a bandit king organizing the bandits began to circulate.

Seeing the alliances between Bakersfield and various other cities (such as Domochlovek, Maciticaaltepetl, Yaré, and Villingen-Swinnengen), and the rising prosperity and trade that entailed, Mama took advantage of this opportunity and began restoring her Rapture empire. She sought the bandit king, Isaiah Tooley, and arranged a truce with him in exchange for a cut of her profits. And, just because she’s generous, she threw in a cut of her goods too.

Eventually the bandit king demanded a bigger share of Rapture. Mama convinced him that it was in his best interest to offer her compensation. The bandit king eventually began giving her a cut of his stolen goods, further cemeting her wealth and power.

Domochlovek

A fearsome dragon began plaguing the people of Domochlovek. Despite their best efforts, they could not drive it away. After spending a few days in fasting and prayer, Božena took up sword, ax, bow, and lance, and singlehandedly hunted down the dragon with Svantovit’s blessing. Three days and nights were spent fighting, and then three more hours, and then Božena managed to slay the dragon. She ordered the dragon’s parts harvested: scales, claws, teeth and bones for weapons and armor; blood for poison and antidote alike; meat for food; and spit for forge-fuel.

A smith named Anatoliy Antonovich from a small village on the outskirts of Domochlovek forged a battleaxe so mighty and heroic that none could wield it. Many enterprising souls made an attempt; and eventually the people called for Tsarbog Zoric to lift it, only to find that not even their hands could swing it. And then, some time later, a shepardess named Mirsada Mišić used it in the defense of the village against chaosbeasts. the Tsarbog, impressed by her heroism, offered her a place in court and a position as a bogatyr. Humbled, the smith granted the mighty battleaxe to Mirsada Mišić.

A beggar named Dimitar Velimich Trajkovski approached the Tsarbog and begged a place at court, claiming that he can smell lies provided he remain a beggar. After some testing, the court finds this to be true and Božena allowed him to beg on her grounds.

Ana Tihomichna, a woman with no arms, no legs, and (very recently) no family made her way to court to ask the Tsarbog for a place among her bogatyr. When asked what she would offer the court, Ana Tihomichna demonstrated that she could spit a dry bean with such force that it could burst through a stone wall an arm’s-length thick. The Tsarbog granted her request.

Maciticaaltepetl

A funeral procession was had for Javid, Rogers, and Kahele. As they had died in battle, their spirits were sent to Acopa.

Xelhua, Ramon, and the various elected officials of the city arranged a trade alliance with the nearby Bakersfield and Domochlovek.

In which the dream team meet their destinies

Ken

STEarly March, 2027
Brisk but warming coastal air lingers on the skin and in the lungs even as they are hit by warmer salt with the heavy scent of rain seeping into the earth and the treated sea huts and walkways. As ever the ocean sighs and occasionally crashes against itself—although perhaps at a different pitch, or cadence, or even some entirely different, forgotten language.
More present than these scents and sounds, though, are those of cooking: the popping of oil, the hissing of frying pancakes, the sweet smell of warmed honey and agave syrup and hot chocolate with hints the bite of cayenne pepper.
The doors to Casa Cruz are shut and the merry rain taps its playful rhythm on the roof and against the windowsills. But sunrays still shine through, painting brighter the inside of the colorful house.
“… still haven’t gotten any closer to that.” The voice is distinctly Alejandra’s, albeit carrying with it the subtle song of stars, drifting through the halls. “So we gonna keep waiting?”
Xelhua stands, slouching and bending his neck so as not to send his head through the roof, two babies harnessed securely to his broad front.
“Just in time,” Ramon says, flipping a pancake. “I’m almost done here.” He motions to the baby seats. “Make yourselves at home.” Then he motions to a bench—the broadest bench they could find, in fact, at the table, and another chair waiting in the corner.

Ken
Ken perches on the back of the chair, but only after wiping the remaining sand off his boots. “Good morning, Ramon. Ah, that smells wonderful.” He leans to one side so as to see past Xelhua into the kitchen. Then he glances around the rest of the room and halls. “No Eloisa this morning?”

ST
“Sleeping in,” Ramon explains. “She did so well at her midnight vigil, I figured she earned a rest.”
“Maybe the answer will come after we meet,” suggests Alejandra, sounding much more present and not being thrown over some great gulf.
Xelhua proceeds to unstrap the first child, with great care and deliberation. “Midnight vigil duties are in addition to a usual day. That is their importance, and their lesson. Otherwise meaning is lost.”
“And if it doesn’t?” asks the distant-sounding Alejandra.
Ramon glances over his shoulder at Xelhua and looks down, a little chastened. “Yeah… but positive reinforcement, right?”
“Then we go with Plan B.”
Xelhua continues divesting himself of his sons. The other babies across the table follow him with wide eyes. “’Ola Xelhua,” says the older one, politely. “’Ola Tono.”
“Plan B ain’t exactly…”
“… ideal, I know.”
“Hola, Leon,” responds Xelhua. Tonio looks down at the table and offers a shy little wave. “Ramon, she wishes to learn the value of sacrifice. Without the hardship, her learning will be fractured. Incomplete. And her choice will lose its meaning too.”

Ken
Ken slips from his perch silently and almost invisibly, heading down the hall towards the courtyard… family disagreements could be uncomfortable enough even when you didn’t have strange guests hanging around, after all. He takes his time as he meanders through the house, taking in the morning birdsong and the smells of sea and pancakes.

ST
“Yeah. I guess…” Ramon replies. “It’s just… scary, y’know? She could get hurt or sick or somethin’.”
If there is a response, it’s a wordless one.
“I don’t want to put Xel under that kind of pressure if I don’t have to,” says the star-speaking Alejandra. “I mean, I can’t imagine I’ll… we’ll… ugh, whatever… wil be able to help him much.”
The more-present Alejandra sighs. “What, you wanna keep waiting?”
“Okay.” Ramon sighs. “I’ll wake her up.” This is followed by the shifting of a pancake off a griddle and the switching off of a stove.
“No. I fuckin’ want Los Angeles and Baltimore to be, like—”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Well get your girl Linda on that shit, then!”
“Look, Linda’s pretty amazing, but fusing cities together ain’t exactly her thing.”
“Yeah. I doubt it’s anyone’s thing.” The distant Alejandra growls. “But she’s got the answers, right?”
“If she got all the answers—”
“—we wouldn’t be here arguing. I know. Fuck.”

Ken
Ken slows to a halt. Taking a few steps backwards, he peers through the doorway and softly clears his throat. “I am sorry to butt in, but is it the cities you’re concerned with, or just the people in them?”

ST
As Alejandra looks up, so too do the small starlike motes of light swirl, shifting the wildcat shape to regard Ken. Then Alejandra and the star ocelot glance at each other briefly.
“I mean, the people are the most important thing,” replies the human-shaped Alejandra.
“But it ain’t that simple. There’s a lot of history in these places. A lot of living, dying, work, play… shit, there are loads of kids who haven’t known anywhere else. It’d be a hell of a thing if every one of my folks had to learn how to live in Los Angeles, or vice versa.”
Alejandra sighs. “That’s how it goes, though.”
The star ocelot’s ears turn back. “Yeah, well. Forgive me for wanting something impossible.”
Alejandra holds her hands out, palms down, in a pacifying manner. “Yeah, yeah. I want it too.”

Ken
After a few minutes silently thinking it over, Ken says, “Well now, I wouldn’t say impossible. Distance is just an illusory concept anyways, eh?”

ST
Once more the two Alejandras regard Ken, this time with equal incredulity.
“The fuck?” answers one as the other answers, “I wish.”

Ken
Given that he’s firmly part of the conversation now, Ken enters the room and takes a seat on a relatively empty shelf. “Sure. ‘Here’ and ‘there’ are all in how you look at things, you know.” He motions with one hand to indicate the locations. “That is why I can be here and be in Baltimore at the same time. It is just a matter of getting everyone else to be here and in Baltimore at the same time, but people are usually good about these things if you introduce them the right way.”

ST
Again the human Alejandra and the ocelot-shaped Alejandra exchange a look. Then the human one looks back, crossing her arms. “Wait. If you’re here and in Baltimore at the same time, wouldn’t that just be… more like… two copies of you?”
The ocelot sits. “That still makes the distance the same… um… distance.”

Ken
Ken shakes his head firmly. He drums fingers on planks and looks up at the cieling while searching for the words to explain. “There is no such thing as distance except because we believe it to be so. Places, the way you are thinking of them, they are made up of the memories and expectations about the place.” He stops, decides explaining that way may not work, and changes tracks.
“I only have one soul, ja?” Ken looks between the two of them for agreement. “So if my soul is in Baltimore and Los Angeles at the same time, well, then they must be the same place. Yes?”

ST
His answer is met by a little bemused laughter, mixed with a dash of helplessness.
“Okay. I’ll buy it,” says the ocelot-shaped Alejandra. “I’ve seen him do some weird shit.”
The human-shaped Alejandra uncrosses her arms. “Alright. Clearly you know what you’re talking about better than we do. How, then, can we get everone else onboard with… um… your quantum physics… thing?”

Ken
Ken shrugs. “Ask them nicely?”
“I can show them the way, if they want to follow.” He offers. “I have done it before.”

ST
“What, successfully?” asks the human-shaped Alejandra. But her clear humor fades in favor of intentness. “How safe is this?”

Ken
“No one died… that counts as safe, ja?” Ken teases. His tone is more serious when he continues. “The last time I tried something close to this it worked. But it did take help from some godlings and it also took a lot out of all of us who were making it work. That was a while ago and I have gotten better at it since.” He scratches his chin and the lines on his face deepen with thought. “No, no. I don’t think it would be a problem at all.”

ST
“So… when you’re talking two places being in the same place…” The human-shaped Alejandra presses her eyes shut and runs a hand through her hair as she concentrates on finding words that would work. “Will our people get to keep their homes? Their jobs? Their lives? What will the… um… ecology be like?”
“What kind of scale of lifestyle change we talking here?” the ocelot-shaped Alejandra clarifies.

Ken
Ken shrugs again with his hands spread out, palms-up. “Their lives, I am certian. The rest, I do not know.” His eyes move back and forth between the two, slowly, finally settling on Star-cat-Alejandra. “Perhaps it is easiest to think of it like a dream. Your two cities, and you with them, have been dreaming separate lives for many years. I can help your dreams come together into one, but I cannot choose what that new dream will be because I am not the dreamer.”

ST
“Might be easier if we… meet first,” suggests the ocelot-shaped Alejandra. “I mean. If we get to keep our memories and experiences and shit once we’re… one.”
“Well.” The human-shaped Alejandra takes in a breath, and then blows it out. “This is gonna take lots of discussion and lots of preparation.” She pins Ken with an intent, golden-eyed look. “You’re really willing to do this?”

Ken
Ken nods. “If you want me to, yes.”

ST
“Well. We’ll have to get back to you on the whole wanting to thing.” Alejandra smiles a bit wryly. “But… thanks. You’re damn generous.”
“Shit, I owe you for giving Xelhua and the boys a ride,” adds the ocelot. “You’re due for more than a thanks.”
“Ken?” calls Ramon. “Breakfast’s ready!”

Ken
Ken smiles, and ducks out of the gratitude (and toward pancakes) with a parting wave.

STMarch 20th, sunset
Weeks have passed. Discussions have been had and had again; preparations have been made and made again. As advised, Yesen has been consulted; and the Alejandras have gotten a taste of their unified dream, and given their people these tastes. Some found it a good taste; some found it palatable; some found it repugnant. All made their choices, and those who chose to left have found ready guides.
And now…
And now the Alejandras have met, borne by guide or door or some combination thereof, not in Los Angeles or in Baltimore but away where any potential harm will fall harmless, in a space somewhere between Bakersfield and Where the Earth Meets the Sky.
In a space where their unified dream can come to life.
In a place where their new city and its people will arrive.
But in between… in Between…

Ken
It’s nice to have more space to work, this time around. Without the press of people and death, opening doors is more like a game than a chore. The bigger the door, the bigger the challenge though, and a door big enough for two whole cities to go through has been proving quite the puzzle. Stars below coalesce into glimmering pools beneath an ocean of darkness. Ken meanders between them, around them, paying no heed to the reflections. Finally: a pair. Matching dreams of matching cities. He kneels between them… sunrise on one side and stars on the other. The surface of the pools are smooth, glassy. Still. Frozen.
They’ll never be able to move that way.
A quick, careless swing of the axe. Tap then tap then spiderweb cracks creep over the surfaces and splinter each image into a kaleidescope of ten thousand pieces. Shattering the whole to free the parts.
They won’t really be free of course. But free enough to choose whether to cross a bridge, if they are given a bridge to cross. So then. Time to make a bridge.
Ken dips his hands into the pools, and breathes, andthe reflections fall away the memories fall away the stars fall away everything falls away and it is nothing and you are nothing and
somewhere there grows a tree
as tall as the sky and as deep as the sea
With boughs full of prayers
and bark etched with vows.
You remember…the sound of autumn leaves and the scent of the moon and the weight of the world on your shoulders and
…it died a lifetime ago
girdled by age and whithered by loss.
The sap can no longer flow from branch to root to branch
The leaves can no longer reach for the sky
and it has grown to heavy for you to lift.
But…waves break over the shore and over your heart and you thought it would never end but it has and you thought it would be forever but
The scar is familiar under your hand
The shape of it, the size
Last time you filled it with a soul. But that didn’t work, did it? Not for long at least, not after it broke free and the world came crashing back down on you. But then again… that soul was shaped for an oak, and this is no oak.
But the shape is so familiar.
A soul. Yes.
The right soul.
Whittled and worn down into a perfect fit. You pluck it from the heart that has kept it safe for so many years and graft it gently into place. And…like a river like lightning the deeps touch the heavens and life fills the branches and
And all the pieces come back together.

STand all the pieces come back together
And the ways open, unfolding from the soles of his boots like an infinite amount of roots and branches spreading, reaching far, farther than sight can see and hearing can hear and sense can feel.
But, for all that, there are no doors. No locks.
What there is… is freedom.
There is aliveness beneath his feet. Ways like roots and branches withering and curling to nothing; ways like roots and branches blooming and unfurling. Some weave with each other, some run parallel, some move apart, some meet once.
And beckoning breezes from some, tugging, flicking gently this way and that, inviting him, teasing him, asking him.
And insistence gusts from others sharp and powerful blasts. Urgency fuels their passing, or imperiousness, or sheer matters of fact.
Even so, some of those ways fade before a step can be taken on them.
But one stays, a large, gnarled, strong one etched deep with more paths upon paths, forming patterns over themselves. It reeks and tastes and weighs heavily of importance.

Ken
Ken takes a moment (or forever?) to feel the lives and the paths all the way down to the deepest root, all the way up to the tallest twig. They flicker and fade and emerge. But one stands tall and forbidding and silent like a stone among waves. He leans toward it…
Wait. There is a job to be done.
Ken reaches out clumsily, half-blinded by so much freedom. There. He brushes up against a path that sings with two voices and beats with two hearts. Sings, yes… but not for him.But the other way…
Ken pulls his hands from the water and takes the first step.

Morevuka

DovileMarch 20th, 2027 Before Sun-RiseThe Twisted Aspen
They are in the shaded bower. The moon is glittering through the woven walls and ceiling, catching on the pale flowers. Some glow, white as the moon herself. Some are only turned darker by the light, the soft shadow of the gentle light.
Dovile is pouring tea.
Her siblings are sitting around the carved milk-crate that is currently surving for a table in this part of the tree house. There are fresh baked muffins on a chipped porcelen plate.
The mood is somber. Sahsa’s dream was short, vivd, and compelling. He’d left them all with the taste of fate in their mouths. Dovile’s trip to the Moist Earth had left her with the same feeling. A path to follow, although to what she wasn’t sure.
To find something, resounding with images of the World Tree, and the feeling of fresh tilled soil.
Dovile puts the pot on the table, next to the muffins, and curls her fingers around her tea cup. Her rifle is on her lap.

ST
Yesen stares into her cup, gently held between fingers that were just beginning to venture out to find what will be their shape. The steam drifts up past her face before being whipped around by the gentle, playful flickings of breeze at her now jaw-length hair. Wordlessly she takes Sasha’s dream in one hand and Dovile’s communion in the other, almost as if they were reins, and carefully flicks them, listening, feeling how far down they go before disappearing.
It’s very far. Farther, and deeper, than Yesen has yet been. She waits, to see if anything sings back to her.
Sasha is similarly quiet, elbow on one knee and fist against his temple, his eyes on the horizon. A low background warm vibrato comes across: quiet, gentle, groundless fuss, unintrusive and undistracting but still present and lingering.
Mokosits grabs a muffin unceremoniously and stuffs a good half of it into his mouth, crumbs falling into his hand as he makes a half-effort at cleanliness. -You know, tasks with Prince Ivan were never like this. I always had to do all the work.- He takes a large mouthful of tea. -Sure, the Sudice always have their fingers on us nowadays, but all I have to do is come along, drink tea, eat muffins, and offer occasional witty and incisive commentary.- He looks up, one eyebrow raised. -You are all, hands down, the best.-

Dovile
-We have been training very hard.- Dovile’s thought is almost a hum. Soon they’ll be going. Soon she’ll be focused. But right now there is tea, and muffins. She’s prepared as best she can. Carmen knows they’re going. There were no stray threads, tying them to someone who shouldn’t come. -We will be the winning team in the Best Olympics.-

ST
-Wait… the Best Olympics? As in to determine those who are The Best?- Mokosits stuffs the other half of the muffin in his mouth. -I thought that was what the Olympics was supposed to be in the first place.-
-No, it’s the best of all the Olympics, Mokukas.- Sasha looks at him sidelong, smiling a little. Then he takes up his tea with one hand and a muffin with another.
Mokosits considers, his thoughts flicking down a dozen ways at once. -If that’s so, where would it be hosted? And if there’s one event to determine who’s the best overall, what other events would there be?- A pause. -Do they test for performance-enhancing drugs?-

Dovile
-Wait, I thought it was an event in the Olympics? The Best Event? Like the skiing and shooting one, only for being the best?- Dovile thinks for a moment, pondering Mokosits’ great questions.
-Does tobacco count? Because if so, we may be in trouble.-

ST
Mokosits shrugs. -I don’t know. I’m not on the committee.- Another brush of consideration like the flick of a wolf’s ear. -But if so, I’ll just bribe them for you. My half-brother owns all the gold in the world, you see, and is especially prone to the puppy-dog eyes.-
After a long moment of silence in response to her testing of waters, Yesen breaks her trance and sips her tea and takes her own muffin.
-Have you no faith in us?- Sasha asks, mock hurt.
Mokosits points at him to punctuate his response. -No, see, I am just bribing them to fudge the drug test, not to fix the competition. I have nothing but faith in you guys. I cannot say the same for the system.-

Dovile
-I think you should bribe the judges also. I am sure we are the best, but they had better be sure too.- She takes a long drink of tea.

ST
-Hm. I’m not sure… Lord Kovlad is not that prone to puppy-dog eyes. Especially when Lady Runa is around to glare at me.-
-threaten them instead, mokukas.- Yesen’s suggestion breezes by. -less of a paper trail that way.-
Mokosits snaps his fingers. -Ah! Clever, as always, Yesushka.-
-I’m not comfortable with this whole breaking down people’s lives with paranoia thing.- Sasha gives a look to everyone that’s too earnest to be genuine. -What about the committee’s families? One of them is a newlywed. Another has a bun in the oven. And a third has been working hard to overcome her post-traumatic stress from previous violent encounters in her childhood.- He pauses. -Not to mention all the other athletes who have been working just as hard and training their entire lives.-

Dovile
-Dangit Sasha!- Dovile says. -We were going to be the best! Why do you always have to be so nice?-

ST
-You’re always ruining our great plans with your compassion!- Mokosits adds.
Sasha has the grace to seem sheepish.
Yesen considers. -maybe we could bribe them to have a niceness event.-

Dovile
-Oh, he would win that.- Dovile says. -And if it looks like a clsoe thing, we will join the other teams.-

ST
And then, there’s an answering shake on the “reins.” It’s a languid rolling, settling to silence. But somehow it evokes strong images, deep impressions: eyes through which another can see, a heart in a case, a beautiful golden bird waking only when bid. The impressions begin to shift, digging deeper through memory with unnerving surety… but they quickly fade, lacking the conviction to continue.
It is an alien feeling. And yet there is something deeply familiar about it.

Dovile
There had never been the youthful haze of fairytale about it, so for a moment it doesn’t click.
But then it comes, with the intense, joyful retellings that Sasha had given, years and years and years ago in a quiet coffee shop, a few weeks after mamuja’s funeral.
And with it, the memory of Tsar Afon’s shadowed face.The Thrice-Nine Lands. Not even a thought. Just a knowledge. Just the sweet, heady odor of its earth.
But there is something coming out of the memory of Afon. Not roots, but something like them. Chains, leading into a powerful, urgent need, a restless, pounding energy.
Dovile’s fingers twitch, almost on their own. She stops them, before they start carving the muffin into shapes.

ST
Fear flickers in, an old fear, stale-tasting but still so powerful even after all this time. In her first troubled breaths Yesen reaches for the shadows, but the moment she brushes them she pulls away. It was reassurance she sought from them, not solace. She cups the fluttering fear between her palms, gentle, holding it close to her heart.
-Ah…- Mokosits lets his apprehension rest before seizing it and remolding it slightly with his words. -Then again… nothing like this had ever happened to Prince Ivan.-
-Yesute…- Sasha prompts gently. -We can wait for you to finish your muffin and tea first.-
Her mouth is too coated in the stale-tasting fear, her stomach too filled with tempestuous dread. -no thanks, sashukas…-
-Well!- At this Mokosits quickly crams a muffin in his mouth and drains the rest of his tea, only with practice managing to not make this go horribly wrong. Then he brushes his hands a bit and wipes the crumbs and tea from his mustache. -I’m ready whenever you are.-

Dovile
Dovile shakes her head in general reaction. Of course it was this, right? Always the past came back.
She put her muffin down, picked up the uneaten ones, and shoved them in her pockets. Just in case they got to count as ‘in her pockets’ in the dream world.
She focused on the taste of muffin and tea, in case Yesen wanted them. The shadows are there for Yesen, and Yesen could use them. But it was nice not to have to taste the fear.

ST
For a moment, the taste pushes through. The fear settles a little in its thrashing. Gratitude brushes by, unhurried but fleeting.
And then…
In… in…
out…
Down the reins they go, writ large now, having become more like paths for feet to tread than handholds, but pushing down ever deeper like roots. Yesen’s light shines along the way, pushing through the enfolding dark and revealing things flicking in at the edges—dreams, impressions and images unrelated to them, what they seek.

Dovile
Dovile follows, as easily as breathing. Two feet flicker into four, and the light passes through them. A wolf made of shadow, or a woman made of wood. Either way…

ST
And then, the way darkens; the path steepens. Equal parts sliding and running, past the dreams of those forever sleeping, past the memories that go back farther than the memories of those who are yet alive.
Then the path rolls again, like some great earthquake.
Raw.
That was perhaps the most apt description of what had just passed.
A powerful craving to mold, to knead, to crush something beneath the hands, over and over, hotter and hotter, to tug and to hammer and to shape and to etch. The emptiness aches for metal, bone, clay, wood, flesh between the hands, all individually, all at once.
It was a feeling so raw, so powerful, that it went by unnoticed until everything else started returning in bits and pieces from where it had been scattered.
Though all is dark around them, there is a chasm right before their feet into which the path drops. Yesen’s light does little to reveal its width and breadth beyond “measureless”. How they got there is unclear—indeed, wits are still returning like the uneasy gathering of feet underneath a toddler who has fallen.

Dovile
The ‘Oh shit’ goes unspoken. Dovile stands guard, although against what could never be clear.
Her eyes cannot peirce the darkness. It’s the wrong kind of darkness.

ST
Yesen’s quickening breath echoes out over the precipice. The fear has grown now, seizing like desperate talons.
Mokosits is the first to act, moving to the very edge of the precipice and setting his haunches down, guardian and gatekeeper, watcher and warden.
Sasha holds out his hand to Yesen’s. She takes it, accepting the gift of warmth through the ever-turning wheel. But still her heart and breath are held as if hostage.

Dovile
Dovile slides over. Her eys remain at the edges, but with the shadow all around, it’s easy to press up against Yesen too. To put a warm head under hand, to draw the comforting shadows around them all like a familiar blanket.
Familiar shadows, filled with familiar things. Sasha’s laughter, the smell of sauteing onions in Mokosh’s kitchen. Mokosits’ deep, bounding laughter. The taste of cigarrette smoke, and the way the sunlight plays through the flowers.
And space to be sad. And time to be sad in.

ST
Though the comforts are small in the face of the chasm… little by little her breath and pulse release. Once more Yesen can draw the threads around them.
Before she steps into the void, love radiates, small and intimate but sustaining, like heated rocks in a sauna.

ST
Darkness closes around them, endless like the cosmos, yet enclosed like an egg. It is hollow, vast and empty; it is full, packed so tight that it doesn’t feel as if the newcomers can move.
And then something unfurls over them. Like a yawn, like an unfolding stretch.
Something flickers like blinking stars.
Something beholds them.
All sides; one side. Everywhere; from a finite number of points. Eighteen. Infinity.
Then something… speaks.

ST
I see you.

ST
It is not speaking. There are no words involved, no thoughts, no images. It can only be intention—although it is not that either. It is as if the newcomers are each speaking to themselves, with their own voice, with many voices, and yet utterly voiceless. With it come the surprise of unfamiliarity; the deep calm of utter knowing; the uneasy surety of having glimpsed this through a dream.
It doesn’t quite come from within. But it’s not apart, either. It’s like a third leg: a part of being which had always been there, yet something alien as if it hadn’t been there until now.

Dovile
Dovile reaches for her siblings, like a heart beating. Reaches for the darkness.
She can find neither.
She is filled with both.
Faced with empty infinity—
Faced with a closeness so full—
Dovile kneels, and bows her head.

ST
Like an egg. The sunrise at dawn. The fullness, the emptiness. Sasha spreads himself out as if inviting an embrace from the sky itself. As he used to every morning.

ST
Good morning!

ST
For a moment, the initial feeling settles over them a new, like a pause in conversation.

ST
It is good.

ST
Another pause. Through the gaping emptiness of awe, through the fullness of reverence, an impulse comes across from Mokosits, budding and flourishing, random and transient as flowers yet tied to an eons-sustained pattern of seasons.

ST
Yes, well, we thought so.

Dovile
You can’t sass him! He’s LORDFATHERSVAROG!

Dovile
Dovile clings to the thought with tight fingers. But her fingers are nothingness, or fullness, only part of the dream. She is laughing, and trying not to laugh. Revrent, full of awe.

ST
All of it echoes, like the ringing of a hammer-blow. Out, and then in, as if reflected, as if coming from another source, matching yet different.

ST
You are my children.
You are the children of my children’s children.
You are beautiful.
You are incomplete.
You are whole.
You seek something.

ST
The emptiness of dreamless sleep. The fullness of waking up to fading dreams. All coming forth, unhidden but ungiven but already seen all the same, as Yesen responds.

ST
We seek the seed of the World Tree.

ST
Another long pause.

ST
Yes.

ST
It is a confirmation. A giving of permission. An affirmation.

ST
Yes.
I see you.
Yes.
I see you.
Sweeping Day comes.

ST
Borne on that is a gathering, a collecting of all things, from all things, to all things. And then it comes together, pushing, molding, kneading, ever and ever smaller. Patterned yet patternless. And then a shattering, where all things are scattered.

ST
Yes.
Come, my children.
I will give you

ST
The impression, intention, image, is not just the seed. It is that which must exist around the seed, the soil and the food and the light and the water. But it is none of those things. It is the knowledge required for gardening, the patience and intuition and endurance.
And then something unfurls before them, around them, underneath them. Like a yawn. Like a stretch. Like a hand. It beckons and offers all at once.

ST
Yesen approaches—but without any sense of movement. It is an acceptance, an echoing unfurl.

Dovile
Dovile follows, padding on silent paws after her goddess.
Dovile stands, eyes flicking in every direction, seeking out the emptiness.
Too far away to feel.
Too close to touch.
A waiting, an acceptance.

MorevukaWhat are you taking from me?Nothing.Everything.A Memory (A Life):
Woke up, sweating, heart pounding. Eyes wide and breath coming fast.
She closed her eyes for a moment. Slammed them back open, the images of torn bodies and broken faces still bright against her eyelids.
Dovile Mikailovana Petrova sat up and swung her legs out of bed.
The floor was cold. Eyes sought the clock. Six fourteen, already light.
Her eyes dart away. Bedroom door cracked open. Silence on the floor.
Father’s snoring, conspiciously absent.Just one day left.
Deep breath, in, out.
Dovile rose. She dressed.
The fridge was empty, except for a bottle of beer. Two apples, both getting old, sat on the counter. The icebox has three bottles of vodka, all unopened.
Three days ago was market day. Dovile hadn’t gone.
The table is old, scared by ciggarettes and dirt and children’s hands. Dovile finds a table cloth. It’s been under the sink, serving as a just-in-case from several years ago, when Father fixed the plumbing. Its dark grey from the dust.
A few moments, staring at it, shoulders heavy. Dust spirals down, dancing in the small stream of sunlight that finds its way in through dirty windows.
Deep breath. In, out. This is the last one.
Dovile walks to the balcony, opening the door with her wrist. Warm air, and the smell of the sea. She lets go of the sheet and shakes it. A cloud of dust, like a thunderhead. Again, and again.
Eventually it’s white enough.
It goes over the table, covering the burns and knife marks, and the place where, twenty years agao, she’d written her name in sprawling early-grader letters with heavy duty acid.
There’s a vase by her father’s chair. Serving as an ash tray. She empties it, washes it.
But there are no flowers. The last of them died when Mother left.
Dovile closes her eyes. She opens them, dries the vase, puts it on the table.
The shot glasses, at least, are easy to find.
Two, clean and clear. Only two. Father had sold the rest, after the flowers died. They go on the table with soft clunks, muffled by the thick cloth. One on this side, one on the other.
There should be plates. But there is nothing to eat.
Dovile looks at the clock. Eight twenty seven.
Almost time.
She goes back to her room. There’s a cardboard box by her bed. She reaches in, pushing past the cleaning cloths and cotton. The familiar bumps of textured polymer, right where they belonged. Dovile pulled out her pistol.
It should have been the old TT-30 her uncle used. But that pistol was long gone. They’d taken it, with his body. Instead it was her’s, scarred by sand and sun.
For a moment she sat there, ill-fitting dress a neat dark blue against the old sheets, the pistol heavy in her hand. It felt like a weight, holding her to the world.
Dovile cleared the gun, out of habit, and reached down for a magazine, slipped it in—
She stopped, hand resting on the cocking slide.
Duty first.
Only one left, now.
Dovile took a deep breath. In. Out.
She stood up, walked back out to the kitchen.
Laid the pistol on the table, at her seat. With almost surprise she looks down at her hand. The star on the grip, worn nearly smooth, has left an imprint in her palm.
She looks at the clock. Eight fourty. Time to go.
Black coat on.
She locks the door behind her as she leaves.
Her footsteps echo down the stairs.
Almost done now.nintey six steps, down to the street. A walk in the summer warmth, chilled to the bone. A funeral.Only the priest comes.That was a laugh, a priest at the funeral.nintey six steps, up to the door.Almost done now…
A pistol, loaded, on a grey table cloth.What are you taking from me?Everything.Nothing.
Turn the latch over, six times.thunkput down that duty, weighing heavy on exhausted shouldersthunka body, a dream of a body, the last breath slipping out of it like a shadow fleeing the sunthunkthe end of dutythunkthe end of everything knownthunkwithout the burden, the shadows cannot hold togetherthunkThere is light in the kitchen…
…
There is a sensation. As if everything she was, all of the body, the bone, the blood, the breath. And more besides. The shadows, teeth, short and long. The roots, tangled in the deep earth, in the hearts and minds of her other selves.
Torn out.
Balled together.
Melting in the heat of two hands cupped.
Rolled.
Streched.
Formed.
And melted again.What will I become? What will you turn me into?A Memory (A Life):
There is a light in the kitchen…
Dovile’s hand goes for her pistol, but of course, it’s not there. It’s on the table. It hardly matters. They can’t do anything to her now, not anymore. Can’t ask anything of her.
All the duties are done.
Like a weight, lifting from her shoulders.
She shut the door behind her, turning the latch over just once. Dovile took off her boots and slid off her coat. Someone was in the kitchen, making noise such as she hadn’t heard for ages. The banging of pots, the heavy sound of a knife hitting a cutting board.
The heady scent of onions cooking, and the sour-sweet smell of beets boiling.
For a moment, half a moment caught between her heart and her throat, she thought it was her mother. But no, Mother never hummed, not like that.
Dovile walked around the corner of the enterance hall.
There was short woman with brown hair flying everywhere, kinking and curling out from under the headscarf she wore. The kitchen air was thick with steam.
“There you are, little mouse.” The woman said, not even turning. “Sit down, I’ve made something for you.” She was speaking Russian. Clear, clipped. Dovile couldn’t quite place the region. But not from Lithuania.
The table cloth had been changed. It was a pristine white. It had blue flowers embroidered around the edges. The vase was full of color. Flowers, freshly cut, almost spilled out in joyous profusion. The shot glassess were gone.
So was the pistol.
“I’m sorry.” Dovile said. Her voice came out cold and low. “But who are you, and what are you doing in my kitchen?” She answered in Lithuanain. This wasn’t fucking Russia. Not anymore.
The woman turned, a cat sized pan full of browning dumplings in carmalized onions in one hand, and a wooden spoon in the other. “The domovoi’s wife. I am here to help with the funeral feast, jo?” She tapped the wooden spoon on the edge of the pan.
The ring was muffled by her hand on the handle, by the steam in the air, by the mold on the walls.
It wasn’t a pan Dovile had ever seen.
“Sit, sit.” The woman said. “You haven’t eaten all day.”
Dovile sat. The sharp tone walked into her ears and down into her spine where the childhood instincts lived, without consulting her on the way.
A plate, one of hers, brown and chipped, was placed in front of her, full of dumplings. A fork, clean, appeared next to it. “And I am giving you tea. I know, I know, it is not appropriate for dinner. But there will be plenty of drinking later, jo?”
It smelled of onion, and baked flour, and lamb. Lamb!
She was hungry.
Dovile looked up from the food. The woman was standing over her, watching, lips pursed.
“You knew my father?” Dovile asked. She had never seen this woman in her life. But the church had put a notice in the paper about the service.
The woman smiled. A thin, wistful smile. “Yes. I knew him. You should eat. It is going to be a busy night.”
No. No, it wasn’t.
What did she owe him that she hadn’t already given him? One toast, perhaps. Perhaps not even that. And now this woman was here, and filled her kitchen with food and light and demanded that she stay and eat, and drink, and live for him?
No. She didn’t owe him that.
She didn’t owe anyone that.
Not anymore.
Dovile stood back up. “I’m sorry.” She said. “I think there has been a misunderstanding. Where did you put my pistol?”
The pan lowered.
The woman’s brown eyes were soft, like the earth after the ice melted.
“I’m so sorry.” She said, and her voice was soft with sorrow. “I’m so sorry, my little mouse. You aren’t done yet.”
…
Something New
Something OldTHIS
A wolf.snarling teeth snapping after prey pursued over endless mountainsa family close together and each back watched every mouth provided for
A shadow.in the corner of the eye never seen clearly cold behind prickling necka place to hide soft and warm and safe and secret
The earth.inexorable and unchanging a heavy weight over head pressing in all aroundsweet thick smell of rain the high sharp notes of sunfed flowersa hound, a hunter, a place of rest, a keeper of bones, a tender of blooming shadows, an ender of life, trailing posion thorns,MorevukaBE
gasping with a mouth not meant for breathing—the sun is risingthe moon is meltingthe snow is flying
You aren’t done yet.
Dovile opened golden eyes and howled.

ST
Heated, rolled, kneaded, cooled, etched
Something New
Something Old
All at once…
A sun.light inexorably moving across the same path each day after each day like a lawwarmth beckoning forth the bloom, drawing sleepers gently awake
A fire.blazing flame burning corruption emptycrackling hearth, merry and welcoming
A vision.cold, driving certainty of purposewarm, sustaining hope of things to comea hammer, a warm word, the word of law, a bringer of hope, a fist, a helping handDobrozheBE

ST
A wolf.running on the edges the forest, just outside the torchlight, with flashing eyes and white teeth and lolling tonguestaunchly loyal, living and dying and singing and hurting for the pack
An apparition.shadow of an unseen monster snapping at heelswarm dark in endless howling white moving as if saying follow me
A guardian.pacing around the opening, forbidding entry with image and snarl and bitestalking through the trees alongside, around the traveler, ensuring no harma lone wolf, a devoted companion, an outsider, a guide, a lawbreaker, a boundary-walkerMokositsBE

ST
A dream.gentle moonlit mercy, tender solace and bitter, sorrowful yearningcold, mercenary purpose driven by raw, unshakable need that flagellates like raw mountain-peak stormwindsthe time between summer and winter, which is warm and cold, fertile and barren, suffused with true magic and empty hallucinationshe who walks between, she who wanders the spaces around order, she who traverses through lawYesenBE

ST
And then something unfurls before them, around them, underneath them. Like a yawn. Like a stretch. Like a hand. It cools and warms and releases them all at once.

ST
Yes.
I see you.
You are beautiful.

ST
NO!

ST
An agonized howl, ringing off the walls of the egg, spreading to the edges of existence.

ST
NO!

ST
Mokosits, filled with yearning, empty with cavernous pain.

ST
Put me back… please…

ST
Dropping to back, driven to knees, exposing the soft of the belly, exposing the nape of the neck.

ST
I beg you… Lord Father Svarog… please…

ST
A pause, as if of astonishment, as if expectant but space-giving.

ST
And then, laid bare, a mother’s grief. Memories upon memories, emotions upon emotions.
And then, laid bare, a creator’s frustration. Images upon images, predictions upon predictions.
A walking embodiment, a constant reminder of powerlessness.
Mokosits exposed like a sudden revelation; Mokosits as he always was from the very beginning.

ST
… I see you.
Come, my child.
I will give you

ST
What was done cannot be undone. What was undone will be done again. But it is a an apparition, an empty eggshell blown of its yolk. It will hold him; it will break.

ST
Please.

ST
Something unfurls before them, around them, underneath them. Like a yawn. Like a stretch. Like a hand. The shell waits to be claimed; the shell closes Mokosits away.

ST
And then the Twisted Aspen returns.
The moist, dark earth is open and close, everywhere and nowhere. Silent but full, of offerings, of answers. Waiting.
The shadows of the freshly bloomed flowers call with their gentle, cultivated voices; a new song, a familiar song.
They sing to regroup. The sky is split.
The shadows of the aged, deep roots call with their strong, resonant voices; an ancient song, a familiar song.
They sing to hunt. The sky is split.

Morevuka
Morevuka reaches out for the pack, and they run.
The sky is split.
They are needed.

Star-Bringer

STMarch 20th, early evening
White steam drifts upwards from hot spiced cider in large, ceramic tankards. Designs of wolves, snakes, and corpses line the bottom, half-carved and half-stained. The air outside is brisk with the slight sharp bite of dry cold. Above, the sun is a wan, pale thing, veiled by sickly-looking clouds. Snowflakes drift idly down.
The porch smells still of fresh-cut wood and of friction-burned sap. The functional, hastily-carved chairs sit safely underneath an overhang, beside the table upon which some of the tankards rest.
Sigyn is in one of these chairs, staring out at the landscape, hair braided back and fur-lined boots crossed modestly, cheeks and nose nipped red by the cold. A tankard rests in her lap, fingers curled gently around it to savor the warmth. Before her the land is piled white, and slopes down a little steeply in places. But a view waits beyond: a deep valley of beautiful, fresh greenery, filled with flowers and littered with wooden longhouses; an icy bay filled with ships unmoving as if frozen in place; and beyond, a thick forest of evergreens, all deep colors and shadows.
Another chair—and the other tankard—is Sanura’s. The third and fourth stand empty.
Behind the cabin is the steady thunking rhythm of an ax meeting a block of wood. There hadn’t been much other sound, aside from the animal-noises that suffuse this place, and the crunching of various boots in snow at various cadences.
This is the first time Loki has not been around for Sanura’s visit. It’s incredibly peaceful this way, lacking a tension that was not readily evident until there was a basis for comparison.

Sanura
Sanura takes a slow breath and allows herself a few moments to simply enjoy the peace, the setting, the quiet company. She lifts the mug to her face and allows the warm scented steam to wash up over her lips to tantilize. A sip savored before she mimics the other womans pose and finds it quit comfortable. Lips turned in a quiet smile she decides for once to follow an example set by a few people she knew and offer Sigyn space to speak, should she wish.

ST
For a long time Sigyn does not take the space, content to remain quiet save the occasional soft sipping of cider.
But eventually patience—and silence—pays off.
“Loki says you’re hiding something under your heart around us,” Sigyn says, quietly. “He is suspicious.” She leaves the statement open-ended, allowing Sanura an opportunity to seize courage on her own terms in meeting the indirect challenge.
Nearby, a small, dark-haired boy—Vali—hops into view, a stick bigger than him and a thumb’s-width thick wielded in his hands like a mighty weapon against some unseen foe.

Sanura
Sanura had fallen into an almost meditative state thanks to the whorls and curls of steam. She looks up and her brows arch a little bit. “I hmm well I may have more reasons that just your company, but no wish to harm you and yours. I hope that’s obvious to you in our short acquaintance.” she catches sight of Vali playing at warrior and cannot stop from smiling at the child’s ‘bravery’ and zest in the battle. “What do you think of it?” she questions softly. She often asked for Sigyn’s thoughts and opinions and now waited to hear it before proceeding further in her own response.

ST
Behind the house, the ax-chopping stops, in favor of wood clunking together. Then there’s a grunt of effort, and boots begin crunching in the snow. To the side, Vali swings his weapon against a rock, shattering the frail branch to pieces. He stares at what’s left in his hands, then looks at the rock contemplatively.
Meanwhile, Sigyn is silent again, expression inscrutable, eyes continuing to sweep over the landscape. Then she says, “I know what mischievous intent looks like. It was clear to me from the beginning that you have none.” It is then that she turns to Sanura, blue glacier-ice eyes regarding her tiredly, punctuated by the gentle but wearied lines etched in her face. “But I am exhausted by hidden agendas. If it’s my trust you seek, I would know why you seek it—in your words, not mine.”

Sanura
Sanura smiles a little more broadly when Vali examines his foe again. When Sigyn once more speaks she gives a more wry turn of lips and allows silently that the goddess surely must know mischief as she was wed to one of it’s most well known deity. Sanura pauses a moment and hopes she won’t come off as offensive. “Well.. as you’ve asked.. I have a belief that the newly arrived deity have a golden opportunity in this tragic circumstance. Years and decades and more have passed and made a certain.. Stagnation and brittleness to your personas and selves. You’ve all been blessed with great power but with it you’ve been cast in stone. Not allowed to change or grow as individuals. Now.. with perhaps a little less power you perhaps are being given a chance to remake yourselves, just a little bit. To grow into even better versions of yourselves. I’d love to see that start with you lady. I’m not a scholar of your myths specifically but what I’ve read of you is very admirable, and yet could be even more so now, if you wish to push at the fabric of belief that has wound around you.” She pauses before saying "Please don’t take offense to the idea I don’t mean any disrespect.

ST
As Sanura speaks, Narvi, a fellow with reddish blond hair, a combination of boyish lankiness and mannishly-large hands and boots, rounds the house bearing a cord of fresh-chopped wood. As he rounds the corner, Vali stops, eyes tracking him, then crouches in the snow, seeming almost to disappear entirely.
Sigyn regards Sanura longer, unflinching and unreadable.
Narvi comes into view, headed for the porch. And then snow explodes on the back of his head, causing him to yelp and drop some of the wood.
At this, Sigyn looks to Narvi.
Narvi whirls and is greeted by a raucous whoop of laughter which echoes down the mountain. Vali flees. Narvi turns again, grinning the grin of playful vengeance, sets what’s left of the dry wood on the porch, nods to his mother and Sanura, and then turns and chases after his brother.
It doesn’t take long for the older to overcome the younger. They go down together in a spray of snow and tangle of fur-clad limbs. Narvi lets out a triumphant cry as he pins his wriggling brother, and buries his face in Vali’s stomach, making exaggerated eating noises to high-pitched screaming laughter.
Sigyn watches this entire scene. Tension grows, like the building of pressure in the earth, the quiet waiting of an earthquake. When she speaks, it is quiet, but bears the weight of the world. “I am not my… myths. And Ragnarok is greater than mere belief.” She looks at Sanura again, her eyes utterly hard now. “If you wish so much for me to act against my Fate, against the Fate of those around me, then help me.” She motions to her boys, wrestling in the snow. “Help them.” Sigyn brings her hand down, looking steadily at Sanura. “I have heard that you made your betrothed able to pass among the people of Midgard unremarked, unobserved, and unmolested. Do that for me, for them, right now, so I can hide them even from the eyes of Heimdall himself. So that Ragnarok won’t be able to claim them.”

Sanura
Sanura watches the children play and her nerves give way to the joy of the children. She turns her gaze back to Sigyn when she speaks and the tension gives her a bad feeling to say the least, the words that follow do nothing to assauge her worry and discomfort. Sanura listens to the demand.. and gives it at least some thought. “I.. created the item.. but it’s full function was not my own doing.. I had the help of several others.” she pauses “It is .. useful for diminishing your affect on mortals but it does not erase your godhood or hide one from fate or gods, I think if you ask Heimdal to find Derrick he can do so at any time, as ever. I don’t think I am capable of what you ask Lady, I am sorry” Sanura allows that to sink in. “I cannot offer you the fast and immediate solution you would have.. but do you not think that … if you all are not merely your legends .. then your fate while strong is at the moment not an immutable one?”

ST
“Being someone who exists independent of ‘legends’ and being bound in destiny are two different things. Legends do not close over my throat; Fate does. And it is doing so quickly.” Sigyn responds. “Perhaps you cannot hide me from Heimdall’s gaze. This I can accept. But you can make us unremarkable, make it so that Heimdall’s eyes will pass over my boys, over me as they do over the millions of short lives beyond.” She looks back to her boys. “The ‘fast and immediate’ solution is all I have, Bastetdotr. Loki will return soon and then my chance may never come again.” Her brows press and she turns to Sanura. “Help or no help, you know how it is done now, better than anyone else. I am not asking for… for an artifact. All I ask for is one hour disguised thus, in Baker’s Field.” She swallows, eyes hard and desperation coming through. “Please.”

Sanura
Sanuras lips purse slightly as she considers what’s being said. Her gaze moving to the side as her thoughts take a bend towards things not yet realized in relation to things that have been done. She frowns faintly and tilts her head to one side. “I am not unwilling to aid, but I cannot fathom how only an hour would see you any good done..” she looks down at the cooling drink in her hands " and I have to confess to a certain .. trepidation in the idea of your husbands wrath .. " her jaw sets after she admits that “Still.. I would risk it if you can explain how it will help.. and if it can indeed be managed of course.”

ST
Sigyn’s shoulders drop a little. She considers how to choose her words, knowing well the ears that could hear them. “I have learned much from my husband. I know of many places I can hide them; where they will be safe. An hour to get them there is all I require.” She turns to look at her sons again. “You do not know my husband. It is not his wrath I fear. He will not be wrathful toward me—he may even be relieved. What I fear is his loyalty.” She takes in a sharp breath. “He is sworn to Odin. They are brothers, bound by blood. When the Aesir ask him where our boys are, he will be honor-bound to answer directly and truthfully. And answer directly and truthfully he will.” Her mouth goes flat briefly. “I trust only myself to keep silence.” Then she turns to Sanura again. “You know better than I whether or not it can be managed. But greater fortunes have happened for lesser causes.”

Sanura
Sanura nods her head slightly to that "I understand.. " she falls silent as she tries to imagine how to do this thing. It was.. no easy task but.. nothing was impossible after all. She rubs her lower lip and considers the way they’d made the dimmer.. putting what they wished hidden away into another space. It wasn’t as if she could get Ken at a moment’s notice but.. She herself did have a .. space of sort that she was able to create. She knew the ways of appearing less noticeable, of not drawing attention by drawing her light inside, at least a little and for a short time. She pauses a moment and touches her brow softly, and then gestures to Sygins own, asking for permission to make a silent connection. If granted she does so and explains her idea of using her shield almost like a thin cloth to let them pass through, but keep what is needed to hide them with her. She would try to work that energy into .. images of them, and take them to the outskirts of the city, in the ruse of showing them a star show. She’d give them as much time as she’s able. As a new .. feat.. she cannot be sure of it’s result or effectiveness.. But she is willing to try.

ST
At the link, Sigyn listens but does not offer input, having utterly accepted and given herself and her boys unto Sanura’s expertise. Once Sanura expresses a willingness to try, Sigyn merely squares herself to do her part.

Sanura
Sanura considers -I think it best if we go out to the town, for real.. I’ll sheild you before we go, and in the midst of the ‘show’ you can slip away. I’ll try to weave the energy to show you as still with me.. and amp up the stars movements to draw more attention skyward.. - Sanura then nods a little to herself finding this idea acceptable considering the short time given and her own set of tallents. She’d rise and gesture to the children. Going to ready herself while Sigyn gathers her small family for the .. adventure.

Star-Bringer
Sanura touches the ring on her finger, gift from her mother, she was a guardian and Sanura felt the influence of her watchfulness, her protective instinct. Her own desires to see those who face danger given the aid they need to be safe and well moving to the fore, pushing away lingering fears of retribution and in their place leaving the warm glow of caring nebulous and beautiful.The strength of one able to protect those in need is a solid core, a mass of light inside her that that burns and glimmers but does not extinguish. She closes her eyes a moment and then when they open they lift towards the heavens. Her khol accented lids flicking slightly as she looks from place to place.. Star to star, beseeching their aid in her endeavor, the strength of her ancestors to come to the fore and bring good fortune with them. She gives a reassuring smile to the children and their mother. Explaining aloud that she means to cast an aura of protection around them just for safety’s sake during the ‘fireworks’ she’ll show them when they get to town. When they gather to her she presses her hands together in front of her chest and as always she imagines hearth and home…. Family.. Safety. She doesn’t stop at these things to draw from though and instead she remembers going unnoticed, passing through a crowd without a single salutation. The strange comfort in being unremarkable and therefore beyond concern. This she holds tight to inside herself as the dome of her protection blooms forth from her having no mass or true weight but feeling like a warm blanket on a cold night.. The scents of fresh bread and hot drinks.. The protection of loving arms and the swelling of one’s heart and how it gives both just a little more strength to face the world. When the barrier is firmly established she looks to her ‘audiance’ and offers a warm smile, one that expresses her belief in this venture and her best wishes and strength put to it’s positive outcome.
When they start towards the city she’d begin to tell them stories, not to brag but to establish aloud their reason for where they’re going, to give them some idea of what she’d be showing them. She tells them about the first time the stars answered to her call and danced around her, giving her their light and beauty, of the first instance a web of them had been used by her hand, to entangle a foe. She looks to the shimmer of the shield around them and would share the story of its first use, and how she cherished the ability to offer protection without violence. She smiles a little as the most recent growth in her abilities comes to mind. She promises they will get to see a cat of stars one day, or more likely night. All this given in a somewhat cheerful tone, perhaps the practiced one of a museum guide.
By the time she’s run long on words but short of stories they’ve arrived at the outskirts of the town, where the skies are darkest and the stars more easily seen. She reaches out and scruffs the boys hairs and then her hands extend upwards. She silently summons the stars to her once more and they draw down with a swiftness of familiarity. Dancing around her and the three in her orbit as she gives a soft little laugh and sends them rushing back upwards. All save one that she gently tucks away under Sigyns collar “For luck” she smiles gently and then returns her attention to the skies, and then only moments later the pinpoints of light that guide the lost and give wishes to children begin to dance at her whim. Moving first in what looks like downward strikes only to streak across the sky again. As this simple motion continues Sanura releases the feel of being .. unseen, beyond comment or notice.
The feeling seems to leave her and be almost repelled by her presence as it washes over the mother and children. The one so desperate to protect the other.. To keep them safe and grant them hope of a future brighter than they would otherwise know. The beauty of such love and hope washes through her and tears well from her eyes and spill down her cheeks… in the glistening tears, Stars that she’d not drawn down but that .. are suddenly there. They escape the joyful tear and move to their proper places, gracing her frame, granting her their light and steadfast strength. Her laugh is one of delight at the event and as the essence of that which would have them seen is drawn forth Sanura sends the stars into a true dance, swishing across the sky and back, taking the shape of their constellations more solidly and then dispersing. Beneath this showy display she silently works, unobtrusively weaving the essence around the three, making more and more solid their likeness and .. the feel of -them-. She draws on all she’d learned of them in the time passed what brought them joy and pain, what she’d seen about each that was .. different from any other being. As the last of the ‘fabric of essence’ is stitched into place Sanura meets the gaze of Sygin and mentally gives the order. -Go- .
As she returns her gaze to the sky she feels the truth of presence slip away, though the forms beside her seem real as if the three were still at her side. She spreads her hands and suddenly it’s as if there were a fireworks show, Stars drawing together only to burst apart in glittering flowers of light. The people of town had been slowly drawing near, the force of personality and the show urging them on. The mother and children able to slip into the crowd mingle in their midst and become lost even further. The smile on Sanura’s face as she conducts the display is genuine and full of hope. Radiance that has little to do with the stars around her shines brightly from her very skin, her hair a dark shadow for the glow to highlight and try to hide behind as the blackness spreads down her body and the glow solidifies into tiny points of light, the woman no longer visible against the star field of a sky but her work goes on, and she creates moments of beauty growing in complexity and greatness till finally.. It’s as if the stars stop in place and shimmer down in a falling curtain. Sanura isn’t there any longer, but there in the sky over Bakersfield is a new shape in the celestial theatre, a Caracal kitten with Andromeda. The small shape bounds and leaps through the stars, dancing around the moon and playfully trying to pounce, after a moment of play the kitten grows to the size of Andromeda and then bounding over to join it, and as the two become one the lights of Andromeda brighten and outshine all the sky for several moments before dimming to a gleam that is still more than it once was…

ST
People spill onto the streets, lean out of windows, climb onto roofs. The night sky is alive.
Eyes which have seen all manner of miracles, of tragedies, of things long forgotten, are drawn from their homes to behold one like they have never seen before. The night sky is alive.
Predators cease their hunt and stare upward; slumbering critters awaken and climb out of their dens and hollows; observers reflect what they see in their large, gleaming eyes. The night sky is alive.
And three figures walk utterly unnoticed through them all. One soft but firm voice commands the other two’s eyes firmly down; one’s glacier-blue eyes stays pinned on the two underneath her hands.

ST
The night sky is alive.
It’s like the singing, ringing of jewelry, the whispering, swishing of cloth.
Each star an ancestor. Each ancestor a story. History glitters around Sanura, everywhere, from every place and every time, suspended in the sky eternal as if a museum exhibit.
But… and…
The night sky is alive.
Stand by and watch no longer. They speak as a multitude without words, sing voicelessly with aching beauty.
Each star an ancestor. Each ancestor a story. History glitters around Sanura, everywhere, from every place and every time, clamoring to make themselves heard.
And then the sky splits with a great roar like fabric ripping apart with a tug of incredible force.
Something is wrong.
Still the stars clamor.
Shadows slither through the tear in the fabric of the sky.

Star-Bringer
The brightened stars give a blink and Sanura is once more on terra firma, She attempts to ‘sew’ the sky back together, drawing stars with trailing dusts back and forth over the rending… She could fix this she could totally fix this.. what the hell was this!?

The Rift

ST
Elsewhere, the sunsong enfolds, compresses, pulls apart with each measure, shedding unnecessary notes and rests and clefs and bars. Elsewhere, the depths crush, further and further like an unwanted crown, drowning, drowning, until something comes through the other side. Elsewhere, the fire blazes, all-consuming, burning even the ashes clean and empty until all can be seen. Elsewhere, the steam scalds and peels and scrubs away the flesh until something fresh and clean steps out. Elsewhere, a crack splits through the steadfast mountain, revealing the core. Elsewhere, growth snakes through, piercing like thorns, opening something up like a bloom. Elsewhere, the black nothing stretches out from the middle, vaster than ever, and… something steps through. Elsewhere, the blazing blood burns hot, conflagrating away everything until only something pure is left behind. Elsewhere, fire rises and water falls, swirling together like dance partners, mingling like lovers, building in speed and fervor until the sudden stillness, where nothing but what matters is left behind.
The lady fills her beloved city. The man who is as an icy mountain peak finds himself melting away. The one who sings the stormsong splits like lightning striking the earth.They are where they must be.
But…My work has only just begun.
The sky is split.
Like torn fabric.
Like an opened way.
Like the mouth of a predator.
Fire. Water. Earth. Sky. Darkness. Light. Death. Life. Creation. Destruction. Chaos.
Chaos.
Chaos.
Whirling around in the wound in the sky, wrestling, mingling, growing, separating. Pouring forth, holding back. Birthing flora and fauna, ideas and objects.
All this reflected, writ large, in the glass over the eyes of the lone beholder beneath the tear, hands spread wide and thumb and forefinger pinched as if holding something between them.
But this scene does not meet the eyes behind it. They look somewhere beyond, reading some unseen records, intent yet the sort of utterly impassive and disinterested of one consumed.

Morevuka
Shadows.
Deep and soft and whispering. Sweet, warm voices, promising: saftey, knowledge, posion, that which can never be known…
The world is full of them.
The sky is torn.
Morevuka looked out, past the shivering leaves of the aspen.
Choas and disharmony pour into the world.
But the shadows are thick.
And they are everywhere.
To your mother, and hers, send moonlight.
To the Swan, send a guest on four black paws.
And to the others—Little ones. Do this for me.
The Shadows swell, like a flower filling with water and bursting into bloom, all at once. Fur of dark greys and transparent blacks. Teeth with jagged, sudden edges. Eyes deep green, like the sun shining through thick leaves.
The wolves rise from the shadows of their duty, part of them, part of her.

C.O.: -Mister Sultan.-
Star-Bringer: -Good Evening.-
An Angel: -Susan.-
The Dread Drowned King: -Brendan. I may need you.-
Hungry Emptiness: -Aida. Is it well?-
The Storm’s Keeper: -Shawn.-
Old Coyote: -What did you do.-
Lake Laughter: -Greetings, lady.-
And, someone new. Someone with the bones of her friend, but no longer the blood. Where once vines clung tight like knotted wires around weary shoulders, they now floursh and bloom. Where once the earth was at rest below soft feet, it now trembles and shakes below a tread that knows no hesitation. Where once the shadow lay still and silent, it now leaps like a dog greeting its mistress:
-…Lisa…-
-My lady. Who have you become?-

ST
The moonlight flicks away, fading like a dream.
The guest bounds away, the shadows and sunlight and dreams nipping at his heels.

Veins on fire, each pulse speaking like a wardrum beating in something which is and is not, driving forth towards the vulgarity that tears across the sky

A million songs, playing at once, harmonies among the disharmonies, a cacophony that shreds the soul

Crushing, dark depths through which nothing can pierce, the whispers of that which existed before the ground -Mother Shadow—Dovile… ?- It comes up like an echo from the deep, small and deafening all at once. -What… what’s happening?-

Nothing. Something in the nothing—a shadow standing out against the vast black as obscene as would the sun. The nothing swallows it.

Synaptic jumping from vapor to vapor, like fingers darting over keys or over strings, shaking the world below -Uh… yes. No. Yes. I think.-

-What? Nothing! What’d I do? Not do. What did I not do. I didn’t do anything!-

-Well… hello! Um… where are you?-

All things unfurl/have unfurled/will unfurl like pages beneath eager fingers and eager eyes, the paths of letter winding out in every direction, known and unknown; these fingers, these eyes dart/have darted/will dart over the dark, quiet protector and the branches twisted among hers, down the ways beyond even the shining hopelight illuminates/illuminated/will illuminate, either unknowing or uncaring of such a blunt exposure

Sanura draws stars back and forth with glittery trails as the shadows approach goes unnoticed. As the now famliar .. tap on the shoulder feel of a mind link reaches into her slightly overwhelmed senses. She sets her jaw gently and mentally responds. -So.. kind of.. doing a thing.. with some .. stars.. it’s ah.. I’m doing some mending- her mental voice is slightly on edge. -Something come up on your end?-

Star-Bringer
She focuses more on the task though leaving her ‘ear’ open for further communication. She tries a different stitch, sending a single star through the rift and ‘out the back’ “Come on.. .. come back together..” she murmurs to the rent edges from which she felt sure nothing good would come.

ST
As bid, the stars trail, piercing the sky like needle and thread… but they fall into the hungry mouth of the rift, swallowed by the chaos within, leaving behind the holes punched through the sky by the sewing.

The feelings of Sun-Bearer, Angel, She-Who-Hungers and The Mother of the Lost are whisked along the roots of the Aspen to Yesen and Mokosits.
To The Drowned King, Storm-Bringer and Lake Isabella: -Lisa is in extremity. She tore the sky open. There are monsters.- And a location, an understanding.
To the Drowned King: -She pulled you and The Hungry One into…- A pause, a feeling of completion, of potental fulfilled. -But Aida is crazy right now.- That sense of flattening, a need for sameness.
To Coyote: tch -You got away with it again. They are blaming Lisa. There is a hole in the sky, and monsters.- A sense of location. -You might want to run.-
To the Star Bringer: -Lisa has torn the hole in the sky.-

Sanura halts her attempts at mending a vague sense of releif -Well.. I’m not the cause that’s .. well no help at the moment- she rubs her hand down her face and sighs -Someone needs to help Lisa, I can try but I don’t know how well that’d go. Who’s good at dealing with that level of losing it? Send them .. now ish- She quietly instructs as she frowns. -We’re going to need warriors in case the breach cannot be closed, can you collect them and send them to a point between us and the.. aberration? Are we sure Lisa is the only cause of it his, what is the .. source of the .. invation any inteligence about that? the fissure is one thing but where are the … things coming from?-

-The lady Chors is on her way. My Lord Svantovit has brought Lisa to godhood.-
-They come from the Other Earth. From Burned Bakersfield where the titans rule.-
Morevuka’s wolf whispers to Star-Bringer the status and intentions of the others, but many are in place she cannot see.

Yesen sends a breath back, the impression of one hand closing over another and pulling the other forth through that which lies behind the world, seeking the dreams of the mad.

Mokosits, on the other hand, does not respond, save a slow withdrawal, a tail pulling between defeated legs.

-I…- The news sinks into the depths, to be drawn upon later. -I will take care of Aida.-

-On my way.- His battle song begins from many miles off, timpani thundered by his storm.

-Shiiiiiiiiiit.- And then, -Thanks, le belle femme fatale.- The link disappears like the slinking away of a scavenger.

And then suddenly, from Mokosits, something pulling from deep under his ribs, powerful, hot, unignorable, pooling in the back of his skull and the tail between his legs, filling his every vein; it had been drawn forth by the Swan Maiden’s beckoning, along with the memory of the taste of her, the feeling of her, which now aches deeper than anything he’s known. It scatters his thoughts, steals his words. Only action remains.
And then the coin changes hands.

Vitality, unfurling like a broad, elegant wingspan, her pulse filling with the rhythm of flickering fire and rushing water; never has her appetite been so healthy, so clear and clean and -Dovile.- Concern slices through the thought. -Where’s Lisa? Can you see her?- And then, -Is Mokosits okay? He left in a hurry.-

To Moe: -I don’t know. I doubt it.- Then the information, all of it.
Morevuka wakes another shadow, slumbering in the healthy green of the land of the Tuatha and sends it to Lord Ogma. It sits at his feet and waits.
And she reaches to the roots. -Sahsa, what is he doing?- Exasperation, confusion, maybe fear. He needs something, but what is it? Why is he running alone?

Sanura nods her head -the stars that can be in motion are then the others will come to orbit in their own time I’m sure. Well done accounting for everyone- a faint note of her usual cheer

ST
Mokosits ceases his bolt once he’s outside the walls of Danmairge and rubs his face vigorously into the dirt, whining softly.

Star-Bringer
She uses the faintest of footholds to make her way down the outside of the wall and towards the rift. As she walks she becons down caracal to walk on either side of her, every few steps a pulse works through them and they brighten and grow. She pours more and more of her desire to protect into their strength and pace and step, fangs bared as they run across the ground towards the rift, her voice calling into the break in the precious realm. “HALTANDRETREAT!” she demands of the creatures pushing forth into what she considers her domaign. The cats rushing up ahead but stopping short of engaging, glowing bright with stars fire and growling low and deep. Hissing and swatting with massive claws.

Morevuka
Morevuka breathes in, the scent of blooming flowers and damp earth.
More shadows bloom. A wolf to run to the Teotl, to find Carmen. A wolf to run to the Aeiser, to find Oscar. A wolf to run to the Theoi, to tell Lisa’s aquantance the Wisdom Goddess that there’s a new hole in the sky.

ST
Meanwhile, before the Star-Bringer, the beasts shrink back, hissing or growling or screeching or slurping, some falling under claw and some slinking away, granting her a wide berth.

To Star-Bringer: -Oh, good, I strive to do well. Do I get high marks?- Dry sarcasm.
Morevuka marks the shadows slithering around Star-Bringer’s feet, incase the stars need to move more rapidly then they are currently.

-Shit. Shit. Okay. I… I’m on my way.-

Lord Ogma reaches down and pats the hound on the head. Flowery words of greeting spill forth through the Twisted Aspen, circuitous yet not time-consuming given the medium. -And how might I serve you, fierce Mathair Scath, beloved Lord Alunis, dear Lady Lilliguala?-

-He’s… ah… overwhelmed.- Sasha sends over a clearer pattern of snippets gathered from Mokosits… the vastness of Svarog, the molding and unmolding, and the deep desperation that followed; the shadows and earth and sun and fire and sky and dreams, unbound, holy things shared freely to he who sought sacredness and was never sacred; Moe’s overpowering influence, unrestricted and raw and pure and utterly arousing. -He needs something to help him focus.-

Clean, hot milky steam hiding and scrubbing; a safe haven for secrets whispered in confidence A string of cuss words from a wide variety of languages scrolls across the mind in rapid succession. -Okay, Loba. What’s the damn word here?-

The crash of a glacier falling, carring with it the poetry of ages long passed -Damn. Damn.- A pause, and then, -Whadya need me to hit?-

-What is it you need?-

Star-Bringer
Sanura returns in the same dry tone -oh yes dear, a gold star later for sure- She looks up the stars still remaining in the sky. “If you’ve the heart old ones, come forth and blind these intruders, keep them from this place and add to your story.” She beckons to the ancestors though doesn’t order them into action, instead she returns her regard to the beasts and her eyes take on the look of the cats near her, adding her own growl to their warning as claws made of pure will and intent extend from her fingertips and glow with the inner fire of the heart of a star. Showy but she hoped not to need to put them to use, making threatening swipes towards any creature that dared face the cats that still growled and hissed their own more truthful warning.

ST
The stars streak forth from the sky to the earth, blazing bright as bid. Nearby an alarming variety and volume of pain rings from Bakersfield. The people there were still staring at the light show, hardly knowing what awaited outside the walls save this strange, sudden rift.

To Ogma: No words just understanding. The hole in the sky, the chaos falling forth. A warning.
To Athena: -Lisa is in danger. The sky above Bakersfield has opened.- Images of monsters, the location of the warriors.
To Carmen: -You want to bring some help? And I am worried about- the sensation of the crescendo of harmonies, Susan’s focus, the tearing noise.
To Oscar: A location. A peice of the ring being slowly formed around the horde pouring through the sky.
Morevuka reaches out along her roots, out to her elder brother. -I need you now!- She sends focus. Pure and clear and cold. And then -Find Johanna, she’s- the impression of the entire city.
To Star-Bringer: -Oh good. I will put it on my chart.-

Eagerness, bright and rattling like chains. And then a laugh. -A rousin’ fight t’is be, t’en? Bless you a t’ousand times in one breat’, and a t’ousand t’ousand in t’next!-

-Understood. We will meet you there ASAP.- Quick. Functional. The link remains open, inviting more information if there is any.

-What kinda help? You want I should grab Chalchiuhtlicue and Alvaro? Or you talkin’ more the Huitzilopochtli kinda help?- She pauses. -Yeah, okay, I’ll get both.-

-On it.- A pause. -I’m in the area.- He sends an image of the Aesirs’ home. -Need other folks to smash shit?-

At the plea/order, attention snaps. Clarity follows like a bucket of melted ice on the head. He lifts his face from the ground and shakes himself off, flinging soil from him. -Yes, Lady.- He blinks the afterimage of Sanura’s flashing stars from his eyes and lifts his muzzle, drawing in the scents of Bakersfield. And then he bounds away, seeking the Lady Baker herself. Narrowly he dodges a falling star.

Ken
Ken clears his throat, squinting against the blinding starlight. “Excuse me miss, but I think you should come with me. The stars are falling and it doesn’t seem very safe here just now.”

To the Survivors, all of them she has, an update, information, the coming of the gods.
Athena: More information, about who is coming.
Carmen: -Anyone who feels like coming, ja?- But she’s joking. They need help.
Oskar: -If anyone feels like a fight.- It’s dry, but with it is coming the updated information about what’s pouring through the rift.
Mokosits: -My thanks.-
To Moe: -He’s distracted. Everything is changing. Everything is more. I sent him to find Johanna. She’s….- An impression.
To Ken: -Good evening Dane. Lisa has become a god.- An indication of the identity of the woman infront of him. - She tore the hole in the sky. If she smites you, I am going to laugh.-To Ogma: An impression of gratitude.

unfurling endless whispering FREEDOM -Ah, well, that is new.-

Star-Bringer
Sanura turns to see stars falling far from the mark and cries out “STOP! Return to the heavens I thank you for your aid” she groans and pushes back the guilt that washes over her. A deep breath drawn past her lips as she straightens her spine and turns back to the actual foe that she meant for the stars to disable. Shaking her head and having wisps of darkness fall around her pale features she bares her teeth and steps forward again. Someone needed to arrive and mend this hole before these creatures made it to far to be easily quarried.

Varied acknowledgements come forth in short succession to the information Dovile provides. Athena sends who she’s bringing: Artemis, Ares, Phobos, Deimos, Enyo, Eris, Hera, Harmonia. Carmen quickly goes forth to seek the help from the Teotl. Oskar gives the impression that Freya is already grabbing her blade and spear.

A feeling like a bow.

-I’m sorry, I… I think this was… I think this may have been my fault.- She sends along a quick brush of the image of drawing down the bottle addressed to Lisa from the high shelf, dusting it off, pouring some for Lisa who happened to be visiting Danmairge at the time.

Suddenly, delight draws up short. Briefly, an image of the blindfolded Morrigan scrubbing Midir’s clothes in the river. Her face comes up, and then turns towards Ogma, impassive. Then he cuts off the image quickly, as if realizing that the shadows were still watching. The silence, though impressionless, is still somehow grim.

Morevuka gathers the roots of the shadows, and forms a new pack. The whispers come together.
The Gathering Pack (Sanura, Moe, Ken, Oksar, Shawn, Carmen, Brendan): The postitions of the gathering.
To Moe: -Yeah, sure. Who gave you that, ja?-

Morevuka
Morevuka surfaces, breifly, to scan Bakersfield for Galen.

ST
The Mother of the Lost turns to Ken, not the least bit fazed by his presence there. And as her eyes turn to him, hidden behind glass, the ways respond—not reaching but spreading, not speaking but calling, as if another set of eyes fall on it, another set of feet step on it, another set of fingers can feel its etchings in the tree. More: these eyes are educated, these feet confident, these fingers deft.
At once the stars rocket back into the sky. The slick carpet of shadows beneath Sanura’s heels convey her forth. Soon, the light of the stars illuminate Ken… and a figure, a woman, grand and yet unassuming, reeking of power and yet with a humble carriage, familiar and yet unfamiliar. It is indeed Lisa, but she isn’t Lisa anymore.
To Morevuka, another chorus of acknowledgement, and updates.
Galen’s sharp, pained, half-sobbing breaths quickly reveal themselves to Morevuka’s ears, from the rooftop of the shop. It’s followed by Jeff’s loud, vigorous cursing.

-Um… Lord Svantovit.- A feeling like a sigh dropping heavily to the pit of one’s stomach comes across. -Dovile…- The name comes across like a child’s plea to a mother, deceptively mild with deep uncertainty and conflict. -Do I laugh or cry?-

To Moe: -Laugh now, cry later.- She sends with a sense of holding-up, of the tree, leaning over to shelter you in the wind. A hug.

She leans into the hug, briefly, pressing its comfort into her for later. And then she draws away.

ST
The Swan Maiden’s silvery laugh rings aloud over Kern River as she strides over it as easily and swiftly as a swan flies. An edge lies beneath it, the edge of the crying that would come later.

Morevuka
Morevuka sends a wolf to Galen, quiet and soft. It whispers to him, because Morevuka no longer knows how loud she is.
“Galen. Jeff.” In a voice like precious solitude. “This is—” She almost stumbles over her name “Dovile. Are you well?”

Star-Bringer
Sanura can see the monsters moving past her and gives a low growl. She looks towards the sky and gives an elemental roar of fury that her attempts to prevent the swarm from her home and demense has not been effective. She draws her hands down to her sides, shining claws pointed up in clawed hands. Cat like eyes moving across the sky and picking out the various constelations. Draco, Cerberus, Orion. All of them called to her aid. “Do not allow these creatures to the city!”

Ken
Changing. The unread words rewriting themselves underfoot, the tides reversing and changing branches blooming and dying and chaos oozing like pitch from the rip in the sky…. she is there and he can tell there is something to this, but not what it is when they all sing at once.
The pitch clings to their skin and hair and tongues.
Discordant pitch.
It should ooze elsewhere.
A song in the paths of memory: a place where stars also fell, where life and death were one and the same, where chaos bubbled up through the boughs of the earth. That is a place for this. Ken pushes the pitch towards a song that will harmonize with its melody.

ST
“Dovile…” replies Galen, his voice strained. “My… they… I can’t… it hurts so bad… !”
“We’re fuckin’ BLIND here, Petrov!” barks Jeff, an edge of fear in his voice. “What the FUCK is goin’ on!? Why’s the sky fuckin’ explodin’ and shit!?”
The constellations crash to the ground, battle-ready, and begin to push the monsters back, snapping, striking, stabbing.
Above, a sinuous, pearlescent shape winds through the air as a long ribbon flicks and curves, circling around the rift.
Like the breath of a tern’s wing, Yesen emerges, the subtle lantern-glow mingled with the gentle moonlight. Chors strides forth, bare feet falling on the earth only as the moon’s rays do. She draws one palm over the other and liquid metal star-stuff follows. Quickly she holds it out to the Mother of the Lost—reflected within is her, intent, alert, seeing things as they present themselves in addition to as they are/have been/will be. The Mother of the Lost blinks, mouth falling slightly open. She turns to the rift, a hand coming up absently to the bridge of her glasses. “What have I…” And then the thoughts and suppositions and deductions take off, farther than she could ever have dreamed they would. Suddenly, she’s still, paralyzed by the unspoken paths unfolding before her to the ends of eternity. A stricken look overtakes Chors, the moonlight flashing in astonishment.
The pitch hears a song, a melody, and seeks it eagerly. It begins to thin and ooze like syrup, pouring in gouts outside the walls of Bakersfield. The syrup flows towards Ken, drawn to his memory, attracted to his call. The rift, however, remains unchanging, apparently unmoved by melodies and harmonies and paths.
It is to this scene that Sanura finally arrives.

Star-Bringer
Sanura comes up short and frowns as she sees the … blank look upon the normally bright intelligent features. She regards Chors and her stricken expression and surmises that .. her attempts haven’t gone well. She looks to the mood goddess and offers what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “Things are more.. complicated than we’d hoped?” she lets the question lie and hopes to be informed of the status of the ‘patient’.

Ken
As the past and present start singing the same songs, Ken pulls the memory out of himself. Swings it about his head once, twice, and throws it back to where it came from. It leaves behind a streaking trail of fox-fire (grafting branch to branch in an endless loop) in the place where stars once were - a channel for the chaos, an easier path to run down.

Morevuka
The wolf breathes out. “In a few minutes I will move you somewhere where you will be healed. The sky is exploding because there has been some serious god-shit.”

ST
“It… it worked… I know it did, but…” Chors tries to draw the Mother of the Lost back from the crawling chaos… but when she will not be moved, the moon goddess steps forward, her light strengthening, ready to do what she can to draw or drive the chaos away.
The direction of the chaos changes suddenly as Ken flings the memory to where it belongs. It flows, unobstructed, to the melody there—to the fallen Thrice-Nine Lands—to plague the Bakersfieldians no more.
Meanwhile, Jeff replies to Morevuka: “Well.” A pause. “Fuck.” Another pause, of helpless, groping silence. “Okay.”

Morevuka reaches up for the dragon. -Greetings, my lady. May I ask your intent?-
To the Gathering Pack: -Carmen, can you get a triage set up?- A likley looking spot lights up on the mental map. Between Bakersfield and the battle zone, in a sheltered area with clear feilds of view.

The dragon reaches back, her thoughts crisp and glittering. -I will speak with the scrivener.- A hesitation, a deep consideration. -Excuse me, that was impolite. I would like to speak with the scrivener. When she is ready.-

-You got it.-

ST
The raw chaos which touched the ground, though, begins to shift and change. All manner of things begin to rip free of the soil, giant and fearsome and still shifting and forming like clay. Fire spits, water sprays, winds thrash, earth cracks. They will soon tower over even Bakersfield’s skyscrapers.
And then, the burning sun roars across the sky, streaking daylight towards the rift.
And then, the gods begin to appear, directed unerringly to the chaos and commotion.
And then, the four-headed prophet begins progress towards those gathered just beneath the rift, fully armored, nine swords drawn and a massive ax strapped to his back. Greenery grows beneath his feet, and the echoes of a horse’s clipping hooves follow the sounds of his footsteps.

Star-Bringer
As various reinforcements arrive Sanura nods a little to Chors “I’ll try then to bring her back from where she’s gone.” She looks to Lisa then and her hands rest on the other womans cheeks. Diving into a connection to seek where she’s been taken or is hiding. The small spark of the sun that she carries with her used to light the way as she drifts foward and quietly reaches out, calling for Lisa and bringing with her reassurances and strength to lend. She would have in tow the book that holds the stories of The Found and pictures to remind Lisa of her own strength and ability.

-You said Lisa is a god now?- Ken glances up at the sky. And the missing parts of the sky. -Well. I assume that the one thing lead to the other…- He doesn’t bother to voice the question, which is HOW?!

To Dobrohze: -Okay, I don’t know how much coordinating the Lords and Ladies will be up for. But you are in charge of us, okay?- It’s almost an apology. Ogma and his will arive soon, and hopefully others after that, and if this is going to work, there is going to need to be some basis for cooperation.
To the Dragon: -Of course, my lady. I will inform her.-
To Susan: -Welcome back.- An updating, and adding her to the minds of the Gathering Pack.
To Chors: -My Lady, may I ask you to go to the Drowned King’s Caslte and heal the Empty One?- An impression of the Aida’s gaping blackness following Brenden’s gentle stride around their house. Morevuka opens a door in Chors’ shadow.
To Brendan: -I’m sending lady Chors.-

Ken
Ken kneels down and presses a hand to the ground, whispering to it in its own words. A small world, just large enough for the moon and the stars and a mother and Ken. He asks that tiny piece of the world to turn itself just a bit, so it is not quite there in the same here as the chaos and the drippings and the monsters.

Morevuka
Morevuka, plan as set as it can be and passed to those who needs it, waits.
Waits for her brother to tell her what Lady Baker says.
Waits for the gods to arrive.
Waits to see if Star-Bringer can bring Lisa, too.
And watches the prey.
And Svantovit too, because some things you only get to see once.

Ken

ST
The world turns away at Ken’s bidding, cupping them like a small hand. Sound and smell grow distant, and the thumpings of the chaos in the heart grow weaker.
The four-headed god idly pulls a thermos out from somewhere on his person. One set of eyes turns to Ken. — Ah, dear Lord Spytnieg! — His voice is as if he were speaking on the other side of a wall. He bows with a flourish, his swords scraping a metal song through the air itself. — I advise you to be prepared to mend what you have made.

Ken
Seeing as how the two ladies with him seem to be somewhere other than the here that’s here, Ken plants his axe blade-down in the earth and perches atop it. He keeps an eye (and an ear) on things surrounding them just in case one happens to wind its way in.
-I’ll give it a shot, but I’m not exactly great with a glue gun.- Ken replies. But then something even more urgent intrudes on the senses. He glances at the thermos. -Is that coffee?-

ST
One of Svantovit’s mouths grins. — It is! Would you like some?

Ken
Sap flows, branches grow and whither, paths flinging themselves to life and fading just as quickly Ken takes a slow breath and puts the many things elsewhere for now. Mostly.
-If you have some extra, sure.- Ken says, regarding the coffee. -I don’t suppose you know when I’ll need to fix things, do you?-

ST
As if on cue, a thick, calloused hand thrusts through the newest hole in the world, fingers tearing the delicate fabric of memories.
Svantovit hands over the entire thermos and begins stepping around Ken’s mini world towards the new arrival. — I hope now isn’t too soon for you.
Once more the chaos drips to the earth. Following the hand comes another, and a third, attached to densely muscled limbs. Laboriously they pull three heads through, each blindfolded.
The four-headed one draws the ax from its place on his back. — Lord Triglav. Good to see you again.
— Svantovit. Blade.
One powerful hand reaches out expectantly while more pull the thrice-blindfolded god through. Chaos drips over his features, clinging like oil, tracing the planes of his skin adorned only by scars, catching in the hairs of his body and the fibers of his blindfolds.
Wordlessly, the ax claps in the outstretched hand. Another hand comes about to grab the other end of the shaft, and a third tests the head with a thumb. — Ah! — A laugh, harsh and fierce, rings from a mouth. — You’re the best.
Four smiles respond. — Care to join me in taking on this big fellow one klik to your right?
— Hah! Does the wheel turn?
— You would know better than me.
— Still playing up that humilty horseshit, Svanosya!
— What can I say? I like horses.
Triglav laughs again. — Okay, okay, I concede. But don’t get used to it! It looks like we’ve got important matters to sink our blades into.

Ken
Threads, ripping and tearing under the weight of the fingers of war. Memories split. Roads wiped away. Families strewn asunder. And the sky….sings like it always has, like it always will, you can’t run from it like you can run from land or sea or walls because (like suffering) there is no escape from the sky so you
breathe into the cold steel chambers. A cold wind to sing its way over the surface of memory-roads, to smooth the edges back together and freeze what had been thawed.

ST
Once more the chaos is redirected towards the ruins of one of the old worlds, the fairytale kingdom, like the sliding of oil over ice, like the sliding of feeling over memory. But not before another series of mounds begins to grow.

Ken
Skypaths taken care of, Ken turns his attention back to the two women. As frozen as the memories. He’s never tasted the memories of the one, but the other… he knows their shape and their scents. Light shining on the waters. Stars.
Ken closes his eyes and-…not so fast, bud. I don’t care how much of a hurry in, you put the damn safety harness on because I don’t want to have a second body on my hands…"
Ah. Yes. There must be a chain. For safety’s sake. The taste of iron fills his nostrils.a single oath sworn to both the moon and the stars, the dream and the dreamer, a chain spanning the length of the sky and with him between
That will do. After all, one can’t ask for a stronger chain than an oath. He grips it firmly in his heart, closes his eyes, and falls into the stars.

Star-Bringer and the Mother of the Lost

ST
The Star-Bringer reaches out with her guiding glow andripples, threads, roots, veins, a mazenone of these; all of these at oncefrom the center out, from then to now to the end of all things to the beginning
They open up to her, past…Accompanied by Khonsu, the youthful, soothing moon-guide, Star-Bringer…Alongside Ken, freedom’s shepherd, Star-Bringer…Paying no heed to her own safety, Star-Bringer…Taking the roots and branches of the Twisted Aspen with her, Star-Bringer…
(It fades, it all fades, the ways withering unrealized.)
… present…With naught but the a small light from the sun and the tales of the past, Star-Bringer sought the Mother of the Lost within the branching paths of eternity. She wandered, her light small in the face of endlessness.
(Another ripple spreads; another thread weaves; another root reaches; another vein presses out. One action opens up countless ways like a fractal.)
… and future…It was not enough. She forged onward, turning fiercely away from the meaning of defeat as she ever did. And so she was lost…Seeing that she would need more, she drew upon the glittering stars that were her jewelry, scattering them down the paths she could not follow…It was not enough. This was made quickly evident, and so she stepped back, attempting to find the way back out. And so she was lost…She held the tales close and called to the Mother of the Lost with her bright, clear, commanding voice, reminding her of where she had come from…
(Ever-onward they go. For every way Star-Bringer follows, there are eight more that open up around her, beyond her reach, sieving through her grip like desert sands.)

Star-Bringer
stops in the huge scape of endless mind. Her brow furrowed in frustration as she looks around her again and her hand moves to the star at her throat as she ponders a moment. A faint twitch of a smile as she thinks there are easily as many paths as stars in the sky.. why not have them be her guides in a more active sense. When she lowers her hand from her necklace there is a white shimmering ball of light, it soars upwards into the endless black and from it burst untold milions of stars all sent out with the request to find Lisa and lead her back here, or at least to return with direction to the mistress of the ‘lands’. The brightest of the stars remains just over Sanura’s head, a shining light to guide the others home or perhaps to gain the notice of The Mother of the Lost to guide her ‘home’.

STAnd so Star-Bringer called upon her stars, sending them out along the paths of eternity in search of the Mother of the Lost.
(Another fractal emerges from this action, and another from each of the stars.)

Star-Bringer
Sanura frowns as she watches more and more paths opening, softly cursing under her breath. She sighs and brings her hands up and waves them towards her in a beckoning motion. “Ok ok come back here guys” she grumbles a little and as they return she guides them all upwards to the star over head. Maybe if I make enough of a beacon Lisa will find -me- she reasons as she starts to brighten the mass of stars over her head, sending them dancing and with the very force of her presence would begin to project a ‘sound’ a small smile of amusement as she too hears the keening mewl of a kitten, feeling it sure to draw the Mother of the Lost from her endless revery.

STFrustrated by the fracturing ways, Star-Bringer recalled her stars and remained still, calling to the Mother of the Lost with the mewing of a kitten.
(Another ripple spreads; another thread weaves; another root reaches; another vein presses out.)It was not enough…The cry reached far through eternity, so far that it caught, faint on the Mother of the Lost’s ears…It was not enough…It was not enough…
(And so it goes.)

Star-Bringer
Sanura frowns a little bit and taps a well shod toe upon the ‘ground’ she once more pauses to gather herself and then peering down a few paths she seeks one that is most surely the past or at least well likened to the past she knows. One in which she finds herself.. and friends .. with this she seaks to open a new path back the way she came, one to request the aid of the others. Remembering the by now familiar accompanyment of those she’d shared such a link with before, mentally reaching out to.. tap tap tap on their shoulders. Hoping to reach out of this endless sea and extend a hand upwards for aid.

STIt was not enough. This was made quickly evident, and so she stepped back, attempting to find the way back out…
(A meeting of paths, from with others branch; they begin to wind around to the circle as she seeks the past, giving rise to baffling recursions, and soon the past is indiscernable from the present is indiscernable from the future.)

Star-Bringer
Sanura grumbles again at the .. mess of .. tangle.. “hmmmn” she was looking at this all wrong. A faint nod of her head as she closes her eyes and leaves behind the impression of pathways. Upwards from the perspective of Gods and stars, looking down at the fractle image. She had delt before with knots and tangles and balls and reams of string and twine. She might not be able to sort it -all- out but .. she reaches out towards the endless array of threads and would begin gently tug one then push another. Meticiolous and slow work but eventually having several cords sorted and then those that hum with familiarity of family are chosen.. woven together by deft fingers into a tapestry.. of a door.. a handle on it that is a ring to pull and hopefully open the door to step out into her own mind once more.

STStar-Bringer rose to her place in the heavens and looked down…
(From on high, it’s evident: the threads spread out not like a tapestry but like a neural network, endless connections in all directions.)… and she reached out to manipulate the threads of Fate into a way out…

ST
Ken reaches out, following the line of his oath andripples, threads, roots, veins, a mazenone of these; all of these at oncefrom the center out, from then to now to the end of all things to the beginning
They open up to him, past…Alongside Star-Bringer with her sunlight glow and her book of memories…Without his anchor to Yesen, the lingering dream…
(It fades, it all fades, the ways withering unrealized.)
… present…With his lifeline in one hand, and the Star-Bringer’s in the other, Ken sought Star-Bringer within the branching paths of eternity. Around him, branches grow ever onward, endless, stretching and splitting and stretching again. He appeared there before her, a light amidst a tangle of ways, dispersing the woven door.
(Another ripple spreads; another thread weaves; another root reaches; another vein presses out. One action opens up countless ways like a fractal.)
… and future…He pulled on his lifeline to draw himself from the mire of thoughts, and the lingering dream, wracked with cramping pain, toppled, falling into eternity…Gently keeping one hand on his line, he began to guide her back with his trudging steps…
(Ever-onward they go, their destinations as fragmented and mysterious as the words written in any guidebook Ken’s glanced over.)

Ken
“Hello, Sanura min. You look a bit lost.”

Star-Bringer
Sanura sighs as it seems she’s been found. “Yes.. just a little bit..” she mutters as she takes the offered guidance “I can’t find Lisa .. I got stuck in here.. bloody useless” she shakes her head. “If you can get us out I suppose we’ll have to.. plan.. how are things outside?”

Ken
Ken thinks, scratching his chin. “They could be worse, I suppose. No one is dead that I noticed. And I have a thermos of coffee, so it is downright luxurious.” He thinks for a moment more. “Well now, finding has never really been your strong suit, has it? Why don’t we work together on that part so you can get on with the real work, eh?”

Star-Bringer
Sanura scoffs softly and nods “Yes please, have at it” she murmurs and makes a gesture with her free hand that goes along with her statement.

Ken
Ken smiles, nods, and motions with one hand for her to follow, holding the chain between them fairly short so she will not be dragged too far behind. Then he reaches out and brushes his soul over the countless unfolding roads, searching for one that leads to Lisa.
And….
Of course.
“Ah, well, that is simple enough. We will go…” he plays a quick game of eenie-meenie-minie-moe and finishes up with “this way.”

Star-Bringer
Sanura face palms and sighs “so long as it works” she murmurs as she heads along silently after that.

STConfident that the Mother of the Lost could be found on it, Ken started out along a path and Star-Bringer followed, dubious.
(Again, more possibilities open up around them.)

Star-Bringer
As they go along Sanura sighs faintly and brightens, her frame casting light further down the paths ahead of them perhaps allowing Ken to see further. The luminence is cool and steady.

Ken
He moves confidently, blithely, almost blind to the veins of possibiities spreading out around them. Ken smiles at the starlight. “Do not worry, kettlingur min. She is everywhere. We can’t help but find her sooner or later.”

Star-Bringer
Sanura nods her head slightly to him , a frown on her lips and her eyes reflecting worry.

STPerhaps Ken was correct or fortunate. Perhaps he knew exactly what to look for. Perhaps it was his surety which summoned her, or perhaps it was always meant to be. All the same, their paths crossed.
(Lisa, paused at a crossroads, examining the paths before her as if reading a book. And then she sets out a foot to start down another way.)

Star-Bringer
Sanura heaves a faint sigh mixed resolution and relief. She calls out as she steps forward, not breaking the link with Ken. “Lisa… I know this is all very interesting but you’re needed” she attempts simple conversation, testing the waters of Lisa’s focus…

ST“Perhaps.”
(From her word grows more branches, more paths, twining with the ones growing from them. It’s evident that it could trap them—and clearly the Mother of the Lost can see this this too, as she offers nothing more. She takes her step forward, heedless of Star-Bringer and Ken.)

Ken
Ken steps foreward with her, and Sanura with him, to keep her close enough to their hearts.

Star-Bringer
Sanura says a few curse words in a couple of different languages. As Ken steps forward and gives her some leeway with the connection she’d make her way towards Lisa and reach out with a firm but gentle hand to try and grasp the wandering womans shoulder. “Lisa” her tone carrying more weight. Stars from her person move to block the path, the light making it hard to see past to all the possibilities.

STWith the stars blocking her vision, with the entreating touch on her shoulder, the Mother of the Lost turned to Star-Bringer.
(For a brief moment, it is clear, it is open. And then, a million, a trillion… somethings… wind through Star-Bringer, like snakes, like snapping synapses, like roots, and emerge from her, spreading off in every direction. Written in them are thousands of tales of success, of doom, of joy, of tragedy; over and over she lives through loss, through anger, through despair—and through ecstacy, through victory, through peace. Images and emotions overlap, bleed together, and fade. Ages fly by, and moments drag on.)

Star-Bringer
Sanura grimaces a little with the feeling of someone walking over her grave and then stepping in and mucking about. She sighs and sets her jaw as she puts both hands on Lisa’s shoulders and peers at her. "Stop looking beyond. Remember the Mortality and the importance of -Now-. " She puts her hand over Lisa’s eyes. “Now your children are under attack and need your guidance more than ever. Your place is not in this space alone but with family. Come back to us”

STFamily.
(The lone word stops the growth of the roots. The rest follow.)your children are under attackneed your guidancecome back to us
(And then, the paths withdraw, rapidly. As they do, something about the Lisa before them… changes. She becomes different; she becomes more herself.)The Mother of the Lost at last heard Star-Bringer and her heart yearned for her family. She turned from eternity to meet them. But she waited first for Star-Bringer and Ken to emerge, to ensure that they would not be lost again.
(A single path opens, leading out, happening to follow Ken’s lifeline to the lingering dream.)

Star-Bringer
Sanura’s shoulders sag a little as Lisa looks .. more like Lisa. She’d follow Ken out, rubbing her brow as she goes. Did goddesses get headaches, she swore she felt one coming one.

Ken
Ken waits patiently through their exchange, watching with passive interest as the ever-unfolding pathways grow and then shrink and then fade away entirely. Then, once they’re ready, he turns and grips the chainI will walk beside you
hand over handblood will be your cloak
link by linkwhatever you do, don’t let go
toward the moonlight.
The sky parts for them, the waters recede, and they stand once more on their island.

Morevuka and the Field of Battle

ST
Meanwhile, in the Twisted Aspen…

-I’m sending lady Chors.-
Little drops of the Drowned King trickle away into the maw of nothing, little drops from an endless ocean. -Appreciated, but no hurry.-

-My Lady, may I ask you to go to the Drowned King’s Caslte and heal the Empty One?- An impression of the Aida’s gaping blackness following Brenden’s gentle stride around their house. Morevuka opens a door in Chors’ shadow.
A deference of office shines forth in a gentle beam, alongside the usual deference of respect. -Of course, Lady Morevuka.- Moonlight fades into shadow and emerges beneath the sea, seeking the starving emptiness.

-Welcome back.- An updating, and adding her to the minds of the Gathering Pack.
An eternal melody drifts through the lightness that she has become Angel accepts the update, adds its measure seamlessly to her own, and her song drifts across the Gathering Pack. -Thanks.- Alongside the gratitude goes unease at the hazy, feverish memories of before she had “come back,” and at how different everything has suddenly become.

-Of course, my lady. I will inform her.-
Acknowledgement flicks from the tail of the dragon.

… but you are in charge of us, okay?…The sunsong rises to the sky, flung by arms wide open as if to embrace the dawn and fire lights up the horizonPlease, I need you now. The son of Svarozhich—the grandson of Svarog—brings the sunlight and fire together as if between two powerful hands, allowing the superhot focus to fill him from from his center out, fueling him with the essence of millennia. Then he lifts the aspen, letting its roots wind around and through him. -Yesen, lend me your steps.-
A wordless breath comes across, raising him to the sky. A gleaming red-gold streak across the night sky follows, sliding for the rift.
He reaches back, drawing upon the senses of the warden. The field unfolds before his burning gaze, more complete than he could ever have dreamed.the tapestry unfolds before his burning gaze, revealing the falling of stars from the sky; a forgehammer strikes out at the autumn and its ringing blow makes the tree shiver Dobrozhe presses the focus tighter.

ST
Below, the angel gallops through the sky on her shining steed, a choir trailing her like a cape.
Dobrozhe beams a focused light on the spot the hound had chosen.
The angel dismounts and the steed disappears in a flash of light.
Below, the divine brothers eat the distance with their paces, ax shining, spear glinting, bow groaning taut.
Dobrozhe sends them the images, the power of the monsters of chaos like the beating of a wardrum.
The arrow whistles across the battlefield, sinking to the fletching in the flesh of the quarry.

ST
Meanwhile, in the Gathering Pack (as they proceed on their routes and tasks)…

A warm, enfolding greeting from the gracious greeter to everyone in the pack, comfort given and received in turn even as they go about their business. And then: -That was…- a quick rifling through carefully-chosen words… -intense. Everyone okay?- It’s a question borne with the earnestness of deep concern.

-Yep.- This is the mountain’s peak only response.

At the same time, raucous laugh rings over from the stormrider, the thrill of rousing music pounding in his veins.

The lady of secrets takes in a feeling like a breath. -I… I don’t know, manita.-

-No.- The undersea king’s curt reply whips sharp. Then he pulls back and opens like a hand extended in peace. -I… I think I drowned.-

The maiden offers up a feeling like a hug. The king waves it away.

-It’s over now. I’ll cope.- Waters begin to still.

An impression of crossing arms comes over from the lady. -Brendan. Devon. Gair. You’ll cope, but don’t even think about doin’ it alone. You should know better.-

Rippling anger—

The stormrider’s thought crackles through, with all the weightlessness of dancing lightning. -Yes, Mother. We’ll eat the brussels sprouts.-

The mountain’s peak barks a laugh.

After a moment, the lady takes the lightness for her own. -Damn fuckin’ straight you will. I slaved hard over ‘em. They’re full of vitamins and love and shit like that what makes you muy viguroso!-

In spite of himself, the king’s anger ebbs slowly to the mirth skirting at the edges.

Warmth grows from the shining angel to the others, coupling with the maiden’s laughter.

-You okay, Suze?- The maiden prods when the humor runs its course.

-I will be, once this is all over. I’m mostly worried about Lisa right now.-

-Well…- A sigh. -I feel like I was just ambushed out of nowhere by the biggest… I guess orgasm of my life and I feel great but also really confused and maybe… violated? I’m not sure. So I’m a bit of a mess.- She pauses. -To say nothing of the circumstances around Lisa becoming a god and then her flipping out and the world breaking. Again.-

The king offers up a feeling like a hug.

The maiden accepts it.

The shadow listens.

ST
Below, mounds begin to rise from the seeds of chaos strewn about the earth, their endless hunger lurking under the surface, seeking anything, everything, for sustenance.
The moist mother earth and the mother of man stagger on their way to the point of light between Bakersfield and the rift, the strength stolen from them by agony, saved from collapse by the familiar singleminded resolve which comes from labor pangs and the strength of their father who props them each up with a stable branchlike shoulder.
Dobrozhe draws their agony away, pulling it tight to his enkindled heart.
The moist mother earth renews her pace, shaken but resolute, pausing only to turn back and offer a hand and murmur of encouragement to her stricken sister. The mother of man collects herself and takes them both, and together they continue on.

Mokosh’s cautious thought pushes forth. -My Lord, are you…-

ST
Dobrozhe doubles on himself and begins to sink to the ground under the weight of the pain.

Irritation twines across like the winding growth of a vine. What was he thinking! -Perhaps you ought to give it back to us, Lord Regent.- It is at once a suggestion and the command of a mother trying to keep her patience.

Unable to push thoughts through the pain, Dobrozhe merely tightens on himself further.

Frustration flowers. Stubborn—! But she withers it with the cold press of duty. -Then breathe, my Lord.- Her counsel comes across as a word and as the pattern of breathing, practiced, calm, and firm.

-Hey, give me some of that.- Morevuka reaches into Dobrozhe’s heart and takes the pain. It slides easily into a thousand shadows, and that which doesn’t fit she lifts onto her back.
Then she folds her legs and sits. And continues to wait, this time girded by pain, to make the time go more slowly.

Yesen reaches forth wordlessly and takes her third, slipping it from Dobrozhe and Morevuka with the ease of a master pickpocket.

Hot concern presses back. -Doviluze…-

And to Dobrozhe, along the silent roots, -It’s okay, Sashukas. It’s just pain. It will pass.-

-I know.- Still, consternation comes across from the Lord Regent, clouded by pain. -But it still hurts. And I would rather hurt than know you are hurting.- It is not a hope of changing her mind, just a statement of his consternation.

-Ah, Shashukas!- Love, like melting butter and unexpected support under fumbling fingers And then, after a tense, pausing moment, a contraction, a breath, -What did I ever do to deserve you?- And then, -The faster you squish all the things, the sooner we are done.-

-Deserve!- Incredulity, as if the word had suddenly become absurd. And then Dobrozhe laughs, gingerly but genuine, and envelops his sister in the loving heat of the hearthfire.

A warm, bolstering breath of love from Yesen, albeit with the edges made harsh by pain.

And then, startlement from Dobrozhe. -Yesute! You too?- Almost instinctively, he reaches, waiting for her to return the pain.

-Hurry and squish the things, please.- It’s not quite begging, but it’s getting there. She grips firmly onto it with talons of determination.

-Yes, Lady.- Devchuska sings her throaty song through the air, ending it with a resounding, hearty THUMP.

ST
Dobrozhe rises as some of his pain is eased. He calls the fire between his palms. Devchuska leaps eagerly into his waiting hands.
And then he gives the steps back to Yesen, and meets his target like a blazing meteor.

-Prishka, by Lord Dobrozhe’s grace I’m afraid I must be the pain now: you ought to continue to expel the- an impression of growing, living chaos. Rod’s gentle reminder blooms over the branches of the Twisted Aspen.

-Oh! Yes! Thank you, Father.- And then the mother of man reaches back deep into herself, deep into the earth, and presses.

As an aside to Yesen and Morevuka, Rod adds: -I can’t help but feel I should have brought vodka and cigars.-

Morevuka grunts in agreement with her grandfather.

ST
Half-formed they emerge, splitting rock and soil. Countless mouths part and melt together; eyes flick open and then are swallowed by what may or may not be flesh; limbs push forth and pull back in turns in attempts to free themselves from the soil. And then the ‘big fellow’ emerges one klik to the right, just in time for Svantovit to turn away and bow, digging two blades into the ground, point-down. Triglav charges forward, sets a foot on Svantovit’s lowered shoulder, and springs into the sky. Svantovit rises and charges forward. Triglav arcs and then swings his axe forward, tucking into a forward flip before crashing into the behemoth born of chaos. Svantovit isn’t far behind, quickly dismembering the monster. But the limbs grow as quickly as they’re cut.

-My Lord Dobrozhe.- It’s Mokosits. -If I may.- At the guest’s wary beckoning, the roots uncurl and extend, digging into the foundations of Bakersfield itself, into the patchwork dreams that brought it to life, that sustain it.

each square of plaster, each inch of pavement, each brick, each bar of metal, offer up impressions, emotions, experiences weathered into them with the ravages of time singing like bones and pounding like a pulse

Mokosits lends her the cold focus his sister bestowed upon him.

A group of scattered dreams gather together.

-My Lady.- Dobrozhe speaks gently, but firmly.

The voice of Johanna resounds: -Petrov.- The name rings hollow, feeling fondly remembered albeit disused, like the name of long-forgotten friend. She hands the focus back.

Dobrozhe trades her the information like a parcel. She accepts it, opens it, and it falls into the mass of patchwork dreams, scattering briefly before gathering toward her again. -Can you keep the people safe?- he asks.

-Yes.-
Another gathering, a drawing together of all the ends of Bakersfield. And then the walls grow, unseen but strong.

Mokosits’s thought slides across like a smooth-crooked bow. -May I assist, Lady?-

-Be my guest.-

Alongside the growing shield Mokosits weaves the thread of dreams: dreams of the sky, dreams of the earth empty of all but scrub and succulant, dreams of the warm, wet jungle.
Bakersfield turns away from the eye of the rift and the senses of the beasts.
It comes easily to Mokosits—too easily, an outpour of a miscalculated flood of tea. And the shell cracks. He tugs sharply, yanking it to a halt like an unruly horse. And then he buries the fear, the despair, the anger deep in the dark earth.

Morevuka
So many of them are still in the earth.
Gathering strength, tearing at the womb of her mother, at the body of her aunt.
Memories beat at the wall of her mind, but they beat with fists of mist. Too far away, too quiet. It’s the shadows of the earth that speak, almost too loud to hear. Almost bloting out thought with guidance and orders and pleas and whispers…
The earth buldges with mis-born, growing children. Thrashing, pericing with thorns and ripping with claws.
But still lying in the earth, their hearts beating in time with the Mother’s.
Their breath- hers.
Their life- hers.
Bound with roots, many and spreading-
Bound with a tie of flesh and bloom, one white wiggling worm of muscle and fat.
Morevuka breathed in, shadow and pain. The ground is full of shadows, and her eyes extend there-
Into the belly of the earth.
The cord is strong beneath her teeth. Gristle, gripped between the teeth, with the cold of ice, or of stone.
take a breath, draw fire along the roots like smoke up the stovepipe
With teeth of shadows-
With teeth of embers-
Morevuka bites down. Twists her mouth, shakes her head.

ST
At first, the cord writhes and slips between seeking jaws. Sharp Teeth nick the connection; the vitality drawn from the earth spills over Morevuka’s tongue.
But she finds purchase. With a snap! the cord is severed. The vitality spills from the worm, and it slows and finally stills.
Above, wheat pushes through the ground, marking the death of chaos.

ST
And then…
Alarm draws the moon’s light back in a wordless gasp. Reflected in her starmetal palm is gaping, empty nothing. It leaks into her heart, endless, vast, and uncaring.
But it quickly ebbs.
The empty one’s hunger has faded, and the oily black drips from her skin. The dread drowned king’s ocean-filled eyes flash and the information passes from him to her. Slowly, she spreads through the Gathering Pack.

More of the angel’s warmth comes across. -Glad you could join us, Pinkie Pie.-

-Yeah. Me too.-

ST
She-Who-Hungers bows her head to her guest. “Thanks, my lady.”

A shiver climbs the roots, soft, suppressed, but profound. It is followed by an ache of empathy, deep and powerful, pulled to the dark figure before her… and elsewhere.
-For my darling Yena.- A feeling like an enveloping hug travels to the trunk, waiting for a good time to be distributed.

ST
And then Chors follows the Drowned King and She-Who-Hungers from the Castle Beneath the Sea. At a few quick words, Death herself bows and slides back, donning the mantle of command.

Morevuka
Another, and another, bearing pain. Moving in chunks, hunker down when the contractions come, sliding deeper.
another, and another, life leaking out from between her teeth
And the a pause, a breath, a moment of comfort waiting, passed on.

ST
Beneath the earth, the children of chaos cease and settle into a final rest, one-by-one.
Upon the soil, fields of wheat grow one by one. Behemoths lurch and stomp and squeal and roar. They are met by fire and blade and ax and spear and arrowflight.
Meanwhile…
The masters of desert and oasis disembark.
The guardians of the pharaoh bound after their charge; eyes gleaming, teeth flashing.
The lurker in the water surges forward, his powerful body wending a path like a river through the snapping beasts.
The lion of war lopes towards his prey, a roar ringing out across the world like a dare.
The wandering warrior waits only to receive his mother’s blessing on his cheek before following the falcon’s cry into battle.
The music’s joy, the moon’s healing light, the resplendent queen, and the first doctor turn to the growing triage, lit by an angel’s radiance.
Dobrozhe holds out a feeling like an outstretched hand to the shadow wolves, beckoning them towards the newcomers with the parcel-like information granted to the lady of Bakersfield.
The music’s joy looks to her beloved son and together they move like a dance. The resplendent queen shakes out her gauzy sash of stars and settles it over the gathering triage, shielding them from the eyes of chaos. The first doctor gathers his things and settles into the familiar hurried waiting.
The cat leaps and streaks a silvery light across the sky. Moonlight collides with blazing, raging sunfire just before it can dive into the mouth of hell. The two fall to the earth, striking as a meteor. Fire blazes, but claws only dig, pressing the prey to the ground. And then a wide, circular eye stares, pupil narrowing to a black slit amidst white. Reflected within is control at its purest, a sharp, blazing eye unclouded by rage.
And then she steps off. The prince of the sun rises, nods to his sacred guardian, and assesses the situation anew. In short order he motions to the wandering warrior who joins them. And then, they start off.

ST
The lion pulls shoulder to shoulder with the lioness. Wordlessly, as one, they part, the lion charging a behemoth straight-on as the lioness circles around the back. Teeth and claws flash, and another roar rips through the air. The lion bunches and leaps. A a mawed limb reaches out to close over the lion’s neck, the lioness’s powerful jaws snap it clean off. Another lioness harries the monster’s ankles, and another snaps off its whipping, clawed tail.

ST
And then…
Those of the Fate-stained cloth set foot on wooden dockplanks.
The general with the chained tongue wordlessly gestures to the rooted one and his grim-faced sons. The boldest wears freshly washed clothes over his squared shoulders.
The blind crow-witch and her daughter take to the skies, arms flung wide as feathered wings.
The wrathful physician and the abjected herbalist turn toward the tear in the sky.
Dobrozhe sends them all an image of the field of engagement.
The general’s chains shake with the gratitude of a loquacious tongue.
At the circling warriors closing in, the behemoth stomps, quaking the earth, and lets out a gurgling roar, a blast of sound which rolls out, scattering debris and hitting like a wall of bone-breaking force. The rooted one steps forward, the others gathering behind, and spreads his feet, turning one shoulder to the wall. It hits with a CRACK!, and the dug feet drag a deepening backwards furrow in the ground. But the others are spared, allowing them to continue their progress—and the rooted one straightens and rolls his shoulder with crackling and popping that fades to the groaning of taut, newly-healed muscle and joins the charge anew.

ST
And below, the dread drowned king, the empty one, and the moon’s light emerge to the fractured world. The empty one reaches in and stretches wide the way to the nothing beyond all things and holds a hand out to her husband and their escort. With a polite dismissal the moon’s light starts off to where the Hammer calls; and the terrible couple pass behind and through the distance between them and their divine mother.

ST
Finally, as Morevuka finishes her grim work…
The paragons gather, weapons resting in experienced hands like limbs too long unused.
The wardog and his three companions, horror, dread, and war’s sister sprint forward, unheeding of those behind them, rebel yells ripping from their throats.
The strategist motions sharply to the others. The queen, the hero, and the shadowed lord form up around her; the huntress sprints into the sky with a few long, leaping strides; the messenger streaks across the night sky, message held on his quicksilver tongue.
Dobrozhe quickly unfolds an update before the strategist, along with an offering of a pack of shadow wolves. She accepts it, and at his bidding the wolves spread to stalk the others.
The blood-keepers crouch through the jungle foliage, vicious weapons brought to bear.
The blackened god stalks from shadow to shadow ahead of the rest, yellow cat-eyes twitching, flat tongue flicking over thirsting lips. His charge follows, one hand on the powerful shoulder of the half-tamed beast beside him.
The king of the south limps on a bandaged leg, pain twitching through his skin but not twisting the yellow and blue stripes across his face.
The goggle-eyed rainbearer pulls his hidebound shield close, keeping apace with his limping king.
The lady of secrets directs the bleeding god, the protector of blood, the woman in the jade skirt, the maiden, and the filth-eater with gentle words towards the triage.
Dobrozhe once more calls to his sister’s shadow wolves, urging them toward the newcomers.

Reunited

-Welcome back.- The shadow wolf greets them, infolding Ken and the StarBringer into the Gathering Pack.

Sanura grasps Kens shoulder lightly for a moment “good rescue” she nods and then her gaze moves around them “Thank you, Update..”

-Shit’s FUBAR.- Razorback offers helpfully.

-Nothing very exciting. Extra help, extra monsters.- Morevuka gives her the layout of the battle feild and the location of the monters and the hordes of gods surrounding them. -Lady Baker, she who used to be Johanna, is protecting Bakersfield.-

-Ja, ja, it is like a circle now. Like a hamster wheel of apocalyptic monsters.-

Dovile is gone for a moment, as another contraction comes. When she returns she sends a wolf to Sun Bearer (Formerly Known as Derrick), since Bast has cleared his mind.

This time the Drowned King begins to laugh, a snorting, snickering, half-suppressed feeling.

The Swan Maiden sends along the image of a giant monstrous hamster running through the aforementioned wheel, and then tripping up and tumbling, spinning in dizzy circles.

It is to this that Sun-Bearer enters the Gathering Pack. -Clearly I missed something.- He is dry, unamused.

Sanura snorts softly at the mental image and shakes her head. Smiling despite herself. -Unless Ken wants to be custondian of our very own pet demon wheel I think we need to form a plan-

Ken looks up at the huge, chaotic, glowing memory-path in the sky. -If we have to, I suppose. But I think it is kind of pretty…-

Sanura tsks softly.

-Oh, so you like modern art now?- Razorback is dry.

Ken makes a scoffing sound. -What, as though you didn’t already know I am insane?-

Razorback retorts: -Insanity and taste aren’t mutually exclusive.-

Before any other response could be offered, Sun-Bearer cuts through with his focused heat. -This… wheel serves for now, while we deal with the more immediate threat.- He sends along the impression of the giant behemoths born of chaos, being harried at by various gods.

Morevuka
Morevuka pauses again.
Waits.
The pain passes again.
The wolf standing between Galen and Jeff speaks. “I’m going to swallow you now. To take you to Susan. This will be short, ja? Don’t be afraid.” And the wolf streaches, as if the sun was dropping out of the sky. In a moment, the rooftop is covered in shadow.
And they are in a place of shadow, warm and moist.
The shadow recedes, leaving them standing in triage.

ST
Outside…
The Mother of the Lost reaches out on the paths. It isn’t hard—she knows well the shapes of her children on the tapestry of Fate. She listens for the subtle metallic whisper of scissors, pinpointing which threads they are closest to.
There…
The beast striking at Ruben with its circular mouth full of teeth suddenly draws back, startled, and slinks away from the boy to find prey. Hector bounds off after it; and Ruben straightens, staring after the creature to figure out what the hell was going on.
Meanwhile, at triage…
The shadow deepens beneath the protective canvas of interwoven branches. Resolve closes her stone fist, but then eases it as Jeff and Galen appear, tears still streaking down their faces from unseeing eyes. Quickly, Resolve moves to steady them with her touch. Angel’s ear twitches at the disharmony, so small and so simple. With a single, low hum, the disharmony eases, rising from flat and dropping from sharp to meet her. And then the two of them blink their vision back into place.
Jeff sits, the strength stolen from his knees at the sight of Angel and Resolve. Even Galen is at a bit of a loss, his mouth hanging slightly open.

ST
And then…
A sound which is at once the groaning of a twisted cloth, the soft, quick, subtle slicing of a thread, the final flourish of an etching pen carries along the roots of the tree, tugging sharply at something deep within all those gathered below.
And then the bold son, Midir, collapses to his knees, black veining from a gaping wound in his neck.
The rooted one, the Dagda, roars and presses into the attack, ripping an ancient-looking tree fresh-grown from his rage and slamming it savagely upon the behemoth, over and over again before it can have a spare moment to retaliate.
Shining blood seeps into the earth beneath Midir alongside the last of his strength.
But his clothes are unstained.
Solemn silence falls over the Gathering Pack as the echoes of a god’s death linger.
Something twists in the Swan Maiden’s heart, something familiar and bitter-tasting. La Dama offers up a feeling like a hug.
And then, gentle but firm, Sun-Bearer breaks the silence. -Let us end this, as quickly as we can.-

Star-Bringer
Sanura smirks a little and a feeling of a salute snaps through the connection. She takes off at a swift walking pace that quickly becomes a loping run, her form shifting in the sheild of a series of glittering lights running down her frame. She emerges much like the star caracal, dark colors white ‘star’ spots and of course the ear tufts. She doubles her pace and moves to join the hunting party, offering what small aide she can perhaps only as distraction to the prey the others will attack.

Morevuka
Morevuka haults again. Shuddering breath, another contraction. The dead still need to be expelled.
And then release, white-hot emptiness where pain had been.

To Dobrhozhe: -Okay, I’m done. Give me more of that.- Pain, lifted up and away.
Another breath.
To Yesen: -The moon sent a hug. I put it under the muffins to keep it warm.-

ST
The lioness’s nose twitches and her ear flicks at the coming of the caracal, her mouth and teeth stained with multicolored ichor. She draws away, circling far around to intercept the caracal. Her eyes scan over the lesser cat, nostrils flared, then she looks up to the great beast before them. Her body language tightens, her tail stilling. With a few subtle movements, she invites Star-Bringer to another flanking attack.
Finally, those whose doom is etched in the trunk of the world tree arrive in a bolt of lightning and crash of thunder.
The hammer-wielder and his children sprint forth. Above, the borrowed shape of a crow slides in time through the air.
The horn-holder stands upon the ground, far-seeing gaze scanning over the battlefield; and the others—the silent one, the snow-glider, the messenger, the skald, the one-handed warrior, the keeper of justice—follow the spearhead, the grim joy of battle pounding within each of them to a man.
The great razored boar charges, holding aloft the mountain’s peak and the bearer of the valiant dead on her back.
Her work done, Yesen appears gradually to the treehouse like a beam of moonlight through the drawing back of a sheer curtain. Her toes light on the woven floor of the tern’s roost and then she sinks to her knees and then to her side, curling her knees to her chest. With a trembling thought she reaches for the hug and pulls it over her like a blanket (pushing away the nausea that pain churns at the thought of the muffins).

Star-Bringer
comes up short at the inspection and is still till she’s beckoned forth. With the invite she moves silently in concert with the other. Doing her best to keep up with warriors in her own not exactly fight worthy ways. She’s pretty good at getting out of the way!

Now, doused in death, now, looking upon the field of battle, Razorback focuses. -Hey, Petrov. I got an idea.- He flicks the half-formed image of a large earthen wall circling the rift, keeping the lesser monsters from scattering to allow for easy herding and slaughter. -Do me a favor and send it along so no one gets caught with their pants down.- For good measure he sends it to the Gathering Pack.

Morevuka sends acknowledgement.
And, along every shadow, the wolves lift back their heads and howl the news to those that ought to hear.

ST
The message passes along. The gods shift, moving around their quarry, their prey, their opponent, squaring their feet, digging their heels, bending their knees, taking flight.
A CRACK!: a fractured glacier if the glacier were the world, a breaking bone if the body lay beneath all the feet on the battlefield, a splitting rock if the rock consisted the entire ground.
And then the world shakes. Only the great behemoths remain unstaggered, new limbs sprouting to hold themselves steady.
And then stone erupts from the earth like a spine ripping free of flesh, growing impossibly fast. In the course of three beats of a quickened heart, the bones of the world encircle the warring of order and chaos, cupping them apart from the hidden city.

-Shit.- The awe of the mountain’s peak drifts down like a sheer, freefalling cloth. -I think I overdid it.-

Optimism pushes forth, around the solemnity of death and the hardness of grim determination. -That was. So. Cool.- Resolve offers awe and the growing heat of enthusiasm. -Hey! Let’s be seismo-buddies! I made a canyon, and you made a mountain range!-

-Kid.- Razorback sends along a shaking of his head and a weary suppression of cuted-at. -Yeah… Fine. Seismo-buddies.-

-YESSS!-

-Okay, okay.- Morevuka says. -Cut the cute. You will kill us all.-

Sanura does something that’s a .. well cats cannot giggle but the expression of mirth works it’s way through her limbs in a feline like fashion. -that’s the best- she then returns to focusing on not ending up dead. -How’s everyone, anybody got something they can’t handle?-

Morevuka is already looking, so she is able to report almost instantly to the StarBringer. -Everyone is adapting well. You can kill yours. I will let you know if somone needs help.-
Her gazes pass over the battle feild again, and the pain of child birth begins to fade as the last of the still-born choas beast are shoved from the womb of the earth.

-an impression of mirth- or i’ll just not get killed- she resumes the attempts to help.

A flash of deeply affectionate appreciation all but blasts over from the Swan Maiden like the heat of an opened oven. -That’s it. You. Me. Sofiesmosis. After… all this.-

ST
The battle continues; the behemoths eventually fill their shape, finding their strength but also finding their weakness. Little by little they fall, ichor streaming from wounds, limbs resting far from their bodies, innards strewn about the mountain ranges. The other, smaller beasts, scatter, slinking into crags or caves or burrows. The victories are hard-won: the battlers weary, and the healers grow fatigued. The scourring hunt that follows slowly peters out, and, finally, keeping a watch on the rift in the sky, the gods depart to recover.

In which the train arrives at the station

Sanura
Sanura had looked at the note and re-read it several times, a shocked expression then a smile then a faint bewilderment. All these would take their turns through out the day, and no matter how much her co-workers pressed her she wouldn’t divulge what had her so dazed. She’d keep the note tucked in her bodice and often her fingers would reach up to touch the corner as if to assure herself it was in fact a real item in her possession. The other seamstresses and tailors would whisper their theories that range from over the top romantic elopement proposal to the more lewd suggestions. Some had her taking second glances at the girls she worked with, though she’d mostly chuckle a little and shake her head.
As evening drew close she’d start everyone cleaning up early and while most were glad for an early day they all had gentle teasing, a wiggle of brows or a knowing smile. It would depend on Derricks timing if he was there in time to lend a hand or perhaps just missed the last seamstress heading out the door.

ST
The cadence of pace is long familiar now, even amidst the other living sounds of Bakersfield. It moves along Truxtun Avenue, and crosses E Street… F Street… G Street…
The seamstresses unthread the sewing machines, fold up the bolts of cloth, wipe down the counters, sweep the floors. Humming fills the air, laughing, and snatches of conversation. Much of it is, yes, about Sanura and her humongous bouquet of flowers as well as the note that had gotten her so distracted and spacey all day. But there is a general lightheartedness about the people who work there, a pervasive sense of dazed joy from which springs music and laughter and playful flirtation. Even from upstairs this can be heard: humming from Lisa, loud, happy noises from Li-Li.
H Street… Eye Street… Chester Ave…
And then, soon enough, the shop is clean. The chatter and music and laughter continues well out the door as people meander out, slow to leave. But leave they do, as Derrick’s steps draw closer, the last of them, Mr. Gomez, bidding Sanura a cheerful goodbye and over-the-top suggestive wink.
As they do, Derrick’s pace slows. It picks up again shortly after that. But then it slows again, and his voice carries over.
“Good evening, Mr. Gomez.”
“Der-rick!” The name comes across in a sing-song. “That was an impressive display.”
“Thank you.”
“My goodness, you’re too cute.” Mr. Gomez clicks his tongue. “Don’t let me take up your time. Whatever it was you did, Sanura’s eager to see you. Sent us all home early.”
“I… ah… did… is…”
“Gawd! Just go!”
“Right. Thank you.”
“¡Hasta mañana!”
Derrick’s steps quicken and his stride lengthens. It’s not long before he’s at the door of the shop. There’s a pause before he enters, the little bell ringing to signal his entry.

Sanura
Sanura adjusts some of the flowers here and there and over her humming catches a few snatches of the departing conversations, including Mr. Gomez sharing. She clicks her tongue softly but is still smiling as she once more reaches up to lightly touch the note. She shakes her head a little and takes it out to re-read it. A soft exhalation of almost disbeleif still. She hears the bell and looks up, returning the note to her bodice and greeting him with an oddly shy but welcoming smile. Stepping back from the central display table where she’d set up the bouquet-ception. She crooks her finger and makes her way up the stairs to the roof top room. Every few steps she glances back as if to check if he’s following. Each time she spots him her lips curve in a smile and she turns her gaze forward once again.

ST
When Derrick sees her, he takes in a slight breath to speak, but lets it rest when she pulls away and wordlessly beckons him forth. He follows, a little puzzled and slightly wary at first, but as she continues, throwing glances over her shoulder which makes his heart stop slightly every time and smiling in a way that starts it again, the anticipation he had set aside since the night before finds a new home just under his ribs. Its heat spreads through him, inviting a steadily blooming smile despite himself.

Sanura
Sanura grins a little, the expression hidden behind hair she’d let down from it’s pins not long before his arrival. Reaching the top of the stairs she opens the door to the comfortable room and waits for him to enter. Her eyes flicking over him and a soft breath taken and held a moment. She marvled a little at the sense of uncertanty from him and then took a little joy as it shifts and changes into something else. Her fingertips on the door slowly push it closed with a slight click and she holds up the note between the tips of her index and middle fingers. A dark brow quirks upwards and she can’t resist a mock little moue as she tilts her head and steps towards him. “I’m glad to see you” she innitiates, dark blue eyes moving over his features meeting his eyes as she continues. “but … tsk a note?” she purses her lips as though dissapointed, her eyes giving her away.

ST
Derrick waits, watching her, pausing a little as she steps towards him to offer her playful chastisement. His growing smile spreads yet further and closes the rest of the distance, hands resting on her hips. “I thought it would be less pressuring that way.” His eyes roam her. “Public proposals don’t leave much room to consider or respectfully decline.”

Sanura
She barely restrains her smile as he comes closer. She lightly drags the flat of the card against his shadowed cheek and peers up at him. “We’re not in public now.. ask me” she murmurs softly, the hand with the card resting lightly against his chest, the other itching to touch him but left hanging limp at her side. After the demand.. request? she holds her breath and her gaze roams his features once more, searching for signs of doubt or any second thoughts.

ST
Slowly he moves his hands to hers, taking them up and bringing them together between his. “Ms. Sanura Menmatre…” Derrick kisses her fingers, lingering for a long moment, keeping his unflinching gaze on hers. “Will you marry me?”

Sanura
She feels her breath rush in and her heart thump with such force in her chest that she has to pause a moment before responding verbally. The smile that curls her lips, lights her eyes and seems to give a joyous glow to her entire being is answer enough before she speaks. “Oh yes, Mr. Derrick Sultan.” she laughs joyfully “further I’d do it wearing a burlap sack with photographers present” She gently frees her hands to tuck the note back into her bodice safely before flinging her arms around his shoulders and leaning up into him. “How could you imagine I’d decline when I love you further than the suns rays reach and will for days numbering all the stars and more” Her smile a bit of a grin at her rather cheesey proclimation that she very much held the sentiment of in her heart.

ST
The smile spreads to a grin at Sanura’s unfolding joy, which catches into a laugh of his own at her acceptance. Derrick winds his arms around her waist and lifts her to be on a level with him, still grinning. “Regardless of what I imagined or what I think I know, it’s not up to me to decide what your answer will be.” He rests his forehead against hers. “I love you too. But I think I’m out of metaphors.” Derrick simply looks at Sanura for a long or a short wordless time, and then tilts his head and moves in for a lingering kiss.

Sanura
She smiles and gives a slow feline like blink of wordless agreement to his reminder of his respect for free will and others feelings. A soft laugh as he doesn’t rejoin with an even more flowery statement. As his eyes move over her expressive features her gaze takes on an impish light. “I don’t think we need anymore words” she manages before his lips cover hers and she melts into him with a sense of delight, and perhaps when she could think clearly again another bout of shock at this glorious turn of events.

ST
Some time later…
Slowing breaths and heartbeats. A fast but steady easing of tense muscles. Kisses left on the skin in the wake of the fading feeling. And then the easy, comfortable silence of settling in as scattered thoughts languidly drift back in.
After a while it’s broken.
“What color burlap sack?” Derrick asks, his voice low and tone mild with humor.

Sanura
Sanura had been almost dozing off when the welcome rumble of his voice met her cheek before finding her ears. "Hmmn " she grins a little “I’m pretty sure brown but I never said I wouldn’t dye it” she jests back as she stretches languidly against his side before relaxing once more in a warm cuddle. The hand on his chest moving across his skin in slow patterns, red tipped french manicure leaving the faintest of pink lines with it’s passing.

ST
“I was asking so I could find something that would match,” he teases. “I should think it would go without saying that our wedding will be color coordinated.”

Sanura
She chuckles softly at that and turns so she can rest her chin on his chest and gaze up at him. “oh obviously, are you going to hire Aidas planner, I’ve heard wonderful things” she smirks “especially about his cute butt” the hint of a welling giggle in her words.

ST
Derrick makes a thoughtful noise in his throat. “I’m not sure. I’ve heard he’s… flirty.” He lifts an eyebrow at Sanura. “We should hire Maureen.” His tone is still mild, letting the irony carry the weight of his humor.

Sanura
Sanura bites her lips and then burries her face in his chest to muffle her laugh before lifting her head. “oh certainly, she’s the most unflirty and would never check out your .. totally not sexy and uh no unchaste thoughts at the time from me.. body as you were ceremonially disrobed.” She wrinkles her nose a little at her silly fib.

ST
“Focus, future Mrs. Sultan,” Derrick chides playfully. Then he pauses and considers, looking up at the ceiling. “Mrs. Menmatre-Sultan? Ms. Menmatre?” He looks down at her again pointedly, prompting her for input.

Sanura
She pauses and then hums softly as she considers it .. two S’s … not suuure" She shrugs a little and then springs up off the bed enough to swing a leg over him and sit astride his stomach. “What about … Mr Menmatre?” her brows arch in question as she resumes ‘sharpening her claws’ on his chest.

ST
“Mr…” Derrick’s words escape him briefly at the feeling of her nails raking over him. “Mr. Derrick Menmatre.” There isn’t much opportunity to really think about it though. He shifts and props himself a little upright to regard her. “I take it you…” His eyes travel down and then back up. “… want to discuss this at another time.” The way he says it indicates that this is not an objectionable preference.

Sanura
Sanura gives a soft laugh at his response to her teasing and shakes her head no. “We can discuss it as long as you like” Wiggling a little, to get comfy of course and leaning over to kiss him lightly before putting the tip of her nose to his. “Unless -you- have something else on your mind?” her lips in a very saucy smirk as a soft rumbling that’s a mix between growl and purr is held in her throat. Nails brought to use once more, maybe a little harder, but only a little. She’d been having the worst time not smiling in some way .. save at certain recent moments.

ST
Well, her response was clear enough. Derrick rises further to sitting, seizing her and drawing her closer to him. “Another time it is, then.”